


Just a lack of air supply.

by KyryeDuBarie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, C'mon, Getting Together, Ghosts, Homophobia, IT'S ME, M/M, Portals, Romance, Smut, but also not really, fire mage!Kuroo, of course there's angst, though not that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyryeDuBarie/pseuds/KyryeDuBarie
Summary: Kei is running away in the night like some fugitive, a small, dainty hand in his. There's blood running down his nose into his mouth, warm brown eyes are looking down at him, worried as he wakes up, clothes sodden, and a broken leg on the floor of the forest that surrounds Karasuno.And the crows, always the fucking crows.Kei wakes up, aching head, dry throat, and he rues meeting Kuroo Tetsuro at all.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tanaka Saeko/Tsukishima Akiteru
Comments: 132
Kudos: 157
Collections: HQ Feels (Mostly M or E)





	1. Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei's life is going right... sort of. Tetsuro's isn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm back! (After like four days because I have no self control) I'm currently working on a few ideas (got some UshiIwa and BokuAka to come out sometime soon) but this one has been the one most present on my mind and the only multi chapter.  
> A few notes before starting, The magic system in this is kind of a hybrid, most normal people have like a tiny bit of magic that can't even be used, those who do, generally have base elemental powers, but there are skills, like rune magic, healing that can be picked up by anyone with enough magic, no matter their initial alignment.  
> Kuroo was a fire mage. Tsukki has a rare, bloodline power to manipulate and see raw magic, Bo is an air mage and Kenma is fire, but leans more to runes.  
> The title is from Agoraphobia by Autoheart.

Having a rare, coveted power is working relatively great for Tsukishima Kei.

At least when it comes to financial gain. He looks up for another second letting the thick, warm light, so reminiscent of sunlight wash over his face. The sensation is pleasant, especially in the middle of winter when Kei, always oversensitive to temperature shifts, has to bundle himself up to at least be able to function.

Right now it’s late summer, but the air already has some bite to it.

Which is to be expected, after all Inarizaki is a lot further north than his hometown, their summers aren’t half as biting.

It's better now, _he' is_ better now, it has been a little more than a year and a half since his life went down the drain and finally, things have settled... Somewhat, nothing is the same, of course, but Kei has moved past that haze of eternal annoyance and simmering sadness.

He walks out of the small apartment slowly, making sure no traces of the curse's energy remain. Once he's at the door, he puts on his glasses, the tendrils -more like ribbons, really- of energy that remain around the room floating freely, darkness quickly leeching from them, disappear from his sight.

Outside, he finds the elderly couple that contracted him, standing in the corridor, stiff-backed and pale. "Nothing to worry about." Kei pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It wasn't your son, I'm afraid, just a curse that someone activated while taking back his things."

The older woman's shoulder shake. "So, my Yuu?" she whimpers as her husband drapes an arm around her.

"Not there, Ma'am." Kei says, keeping his distance, he anticipated she might get emotional. "I'm sorry."

After all, she was convinced that the curse tied to -of all things- a powder box in his room was the angry ghost of her dead son.

Except that ghosts don't exist, of course.

The man looks up at Kei, face twisted in grief. "Very well then, thank you." he says, and then hands Kei an envelope. "Here is the rest of your payment, Tsukishima-san."

"Thank you," Kei says, picking up his tool bag from the floor.

"W-wait, you're bleeding." The woman says, riffling through her handbag. "Here, so you can wipe it up."

Kei takes the offered handkerchief, lifting it to his nose, he didn't even notice he exhausted himself so much, but the fabric comes away cherry red. He spells it clean, gives it back to the old lady.

And then he goes.

.

.

The town of Inarizaki is nice, does remind him a little of his own hometown, -enough to make him slightly homesick- despite the considerable shift in warmth, it’s still flourishing with life. It's surrounded by rice fields on all sides giving it a lovely, secluded feeling.

It's the seventh one he's been in, his particular skillset always has some demand anywhere he goes. After all, in a world of curses and mages -and the occasional, if rare demon- someone who can actually see how a curse is formed, and get rid of it without anything or anyone blowing up or being otherwise horribly maimed, is certainly useful.

He's in no hurry to settle down, after all, not at least until-

Yeah, he still has a long way to go.

Kei adjusts the collar of his shirt, he still has some food at his room in the inn where he is staying.

But he still makes a detour for the bar, pays for a bottle of moonshine with part of the money he just made, and takes it up to the bedroom. Skipping the creaky steps on the wooden staircase, he deserves some rest tonight.

He is about to open the door when he feels the presence, -familiar, though it's just far enough that Kei can't tell for sure- his glasses are off in a second, but no ribbons of magic seem to be wrapped around the handle or the door itself. Kei reaches into his toolbag, pulling out a dagger, the one with a heavy handle that Tadashi gave him for his twentieth.

There's still definitely someone inside. Kei sets the bottle down, turns the handle carefully, and uses a gust of raw magic to blow the door open, rushing in immediately.

Inside it's dark, he hears the large form before it tries to grab at him. Kei's fast, his elbow collides with the man's hard, warm belly, he holds the knife up to what he's pretty sure is his neck. Still, a pair of impossibly thick arms wrap around him. "Tsukki, ow! Calm down!" The man says, and fuck if Kei doesn't know that voice.

"I told you we should've waited downstairs." Another familiar voice says from further inside the room. The dingy little lightbulb sputters to life bathing the room in amber light. Kei frowns, his eyes meeting bronze ones.

"What are you doing here?" Kei growls, shoving at Bokuto's chest until he's let go.

The air mage looks sheepish, he rubs at the back of his head. "Would you believe us if we said we just heard you were here and decided to drop by?"

"No." Kei answers simply, doubling back for his bag and the bottle. "Someone has been following me since the last town I was in." he takes a deep breath. "What do you want?" He finally spots Kenma leaning against the corner, his hair is all brown now, that nasty spell finally washed out, huh? Kei passes Bokuto by letting himself fall on the bed.

"Well..." The owl begins and then looks to the side.

"I have a job for you." Kenma blurts out, face unreadable. "Someone with your skillset at least."

"You know my brother." Kei shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips. "Ask him."

"Tsukki." Bokuto sighs. "I- we need _you_."

"You as in you two?" Kei spits bitterly. "Or you as-"

"Both," Kenma says, walking towards him, spars of magic ricocheting between his hands, the lightbulb flickers as he draws close. "You can accept this as a job or as a favor. But I'm afraid we're not going to leave you alone easily."

He looks between the two men, he knows them -knew them- well enough to spot the determination there. And while Bokuto can be determined about every other thing, seeing that look on Kenma makes a drop of cold sweat slide down the back of his neck. There's little that could get the other man so riled up. "I could leave, how long do you think it would take you to find me? I'm sure there are other options."

Kenma lets himself fall on the bed beside Kei, one of his small hands snatches the bottle from him. "We have exhausted them all."

Kei's lips press into a tight line. "What's so bad? I mean, Akiteru is good too, if you really need an energy mage."

Bokuto grabs the bottle from Kenma's hands. "I, uh- there was an accident." he starts. "Kuroo had an accident, and it involved that research of his so-"

Truly, he had no idea what to expect when he realized who the intruders were, but this wasn't it. A hole opens at the pit of Kei's belly and suddenly things aren't alright or stable at all. "I see." He breathes out. "I see."

"Tsukki please," Bokuto says. "Look, it can be like one of these jobs. None of us expects more. You're the only chance we have."

Kei takes a deep breath, at least they didn't drag Akiteru into this, as much as he wishes he weren't in this situation right now, at least he's glad for that. "Fine." he snaps. "Fine, just- Tomorrow, ok? Give me some room, I'll help you tomorrow. And I'm charging you big time." he says, glaring at Kenma.

"Fine by me." The man says, standing up. "You can name your price tomorrow, whatever it is."

"Don't even think of running away, Tsukki," Bokuto says. "We're in the next room.

His back hits the mattress before the door closes behind them.

And he drinks the whole bottle.

.

.

_"I think you deserve better. And I'm done with this." Harsh hazel eyes on him, harsh words cutting at his skin, his heart. He can feel the dishonesty in them. "It’s not working, I’m sorry"_

_Then there are hands and smoke and his mother's sugar-sweet voice, his father smoking a cigar._

_There are smiles and dances and it's all a haze of numbness, a haze of lies and Kei taking them all, taking it all, until he woke up one day with a vow etched on the skin of his right hand. And hardly a way to escape._

_There's blackness and that smell of gunpowder and life._

_Kei is running away in the night like some fugitive, a small, dainty hand in his. There's blood running down his nose into his mouth, warm brown eyes are looking down at him, worried as he wakes up, clothes sodden, and a broken leg on the floor of the forest that surrounds Karasuno._

_And the crows, always the fucking crows._

Kei wakes up, aching head, dry throat, and he rues meeting Kuroo Tetsuro at all.

.

.

Koutarou knocks, again and again, he's about to kick the door in by the time a tired groan alerts him to the presence of the person inside.

Good, at least Tsukishima didn't leave, it was horribly hard to find him in the first place.

"Tsukki, we're taking the first train," he yells. "Get out here we got breakfast, you can eat on the way."

That gets the blond's attention, the door opens a crack and Tsukishima peeks through it. "You're a wind mage, can't you get us there in something that isn't a huge lump of iron and wood?" he rolls his eyes. "They're easy to curse, into derailing, y'know?"

Koutarou sighs, at least Tsukishima seems affected. "You might freeze by the time we get to Nekoma," he says. "Besides I'm pretty sure that we won't run into any curses or demons. C'mon Tsukki, we'll miss it."

Tsukishima groans and the door closes. "I'll be out in twenty minutes."

And he indeed is, after all, Tsukishima always was a decently punctual person. Koutarou leads the way to the train, while Kenma keeps Tsukishima's mouth busy by handing him one more piece of food every time he finishes the previous one.

They manage to secure a compartment for themselves. Tsukishima immediately curls up at the corner of one of the leather seats, head stubbornly turned toward the window. The lone amber earring that he wears sends flashes of light across Tsukishima's white, ruffled shirt.

Koutarou knows Tsukishima was hurt after... well after he and Kuroo split. But from what he's heard the blond bounced back pretty fast after, so he isn't sure why he's acting this affected. Sure, last night it seemed good, like he would be willing to help them when no one else is. But now he really wonders, Kuroo never told him everything that happened -he wasn't there for a long time after either- but this seems excessive, all things considered.

His gaze is inevitably drawn to the leather gloves that the blond seems to wear everywhere, he wonders what the vow looks like.

It takes around an hour before the blond finally lets his legs fall to the floor with a sigh. "How illegal is this?"

"Very." Koutarou opens his arms wide gesturing wildly about himself. "He used all the runes and the thingy, you know, that paint? I'm not sure how the house is stan-"

Kenma interrupts him, shaking his head. "You know the council's statute where they- uh."

"Prohibit trying to create portals because they tend to blow up and wipe out everything in a ten-mile radius?" Tsukishima lifts an eyebrow. "Yes."

"He pretty much did everything that tells you not to do." he sighs. "It's a house, on the outskirts of the town. He was so sure..." Kenma trails off.

Tsukishima sighs. "I don't know that much about portals, what are you trying to get me to do? If it's that bad you're going to have to call a council team"

"It's not that simple." Kenma says, tapping the floor with his foot. "We- I think there was a curse on the house too, the portal is useless, but it's not unstable, still-" he pauses. "I think it's better if you see it for yourself."

The blond's brow furrows. "I could really use some actual insight. Why isn't he here to tell me?"

And that's it, Koutarou knows it's his turn now, he has to get into the hairy details of it all. "About that..."

.

.

The house is more of a little cabin, a few miles from the border of the town, with a relatively non-threatening in appearance, the small house for Kei's parent's servants on the edge of their estate is bigger.

There's a decent amount of land to the sides and the back, before the forest that surrounds Nekoma takes over, there is even a small garden that's mostly weeds. The house is two stories tall and seemingly all wood, at some point in time it must've been a nice place, Kei can spot accents in the peeling paint and there are flower boxes by the windows, although, like the garden, they are overrun with weeds.

Despite the unassuming appearance of the place Kei can feel the magic pulsing inside, curling and writhing around itself.

He can't feel Kuroo though.

Maybe Kenma and Bokuto are crazy, he looks back at them. Brow furrowed, the tale Bokuto told him was just... unbelievable. He looks at the house again, the energy lines are hard to feel, there's a lot of them, but the knot of magic inside the house is _that_ powerful. "I'll need an earth mage too, I think," Kei says.

Kenma nods. "I already called one, he'll be here tomorrow."

There's a moment of silence, and Kei steps forward.

Oh, he's not ready for this.

He never will be.

For a second he ponders on asking Bokuto or Kenma to come along, but then, this might get ugly in more than one way. If Kuroo is really in there, which Kei doesn't really believe. He can sense even the tiny spark of magic in ordinary people who can't even light a candle without matches.

He takes a step forward, one breath, another step, one more breath. Walk up the two porch steps, across the porch, his breathing speeds up even more. He lifts his hand to tug off his glasses, but whatever the curse, portal, or cesspool of wild magic there is inside, it doesn't seem to extend to the front door.

The door opens with a creak.

.

.

Tetsuro is sitting on the banister.

Or floating over it.

He's not sure he actually touches things anymore. He's fallen from here before after all, more than once and he's still in one piece.

It's strange, this existence of his, sometimes he feels solid, sometimes he phases through the banister and floats gently down to the floor and even under the house, to that little space where the family of possums lived at first, when he bought the house. But there are no animals here anymore, not even termites eating at the old, rotting wood. Not for a year and some months now.

It's hard to tell how much time has passed too.

This isn't a house he would've chosen for himself, but he can't burn it down anymore in a fit of distraction, so it's not like that matters.

He feels someone step on the front porch and sighs. Probably Kenma, he has been tireless while looking for a solution to his little problem. Never mind that they both know that there probably isn't one.

At first, Tetsuro would rush to the door, jitters filling his stomach from the still-foreign sensation of having some awareness of the house itself in his guts, his bones. Lately, he's a bit too tired for even that.

He looks down as the door is pushed open, he expects to see Kenma's dark hair, his loose, dark robes.

But what walks in is a dream, a mirage, probably, sometimes the house and the magic under it do funny thing. maybe it's just that Tetsuro has been sucked dry, so much so that his mind is trying to give him one last thing to cling on to before the inevitable end.

Tsukishima's hair is slightly longer, the slightly wilder curls brush over his neck, it's even lighter than Tetsuro remember, probably from being in the sun often, this conception is only strengthened when he notices the slight tan on skin that he remembers as lily-white.

-he probably runs around outside a lot now with his wife, hell, maybe he even has children on the way-

He's not wearing glasses, and his eyes, those eyes break Tetsuro's heart -if he still has one- all over again.

.

.

It's dark inside, dark and dusty and damp.

The hum of magic comes from the basement, calling to Kei, strong and pulsating like a heart, a dragon's heart by the size of it.

He still can't feel Kuroo.

His first instinct is to head down to where that brilliant, golden knot calls for him, but then something catches his eye, some sort of shimmer at the edge of his vision, up on the second floor.

The wood of the stairs is rotting, each and every one of them creak under his weight. Kei grits his teeth, he always has hated that sound.

He looks up at the banister, the small corridor in front of the neat row of doors, but there's nothing there, just more old, rotting, creaky wood planks.

Maybe he's crazy maybe... He walks up and down the corridor, fingers brushing over the plaster and the doors. When he reaches the one at the end of the corridor the small weight of his hand makes it shift. Curious, Kei pushes it open.

There's a bed inside, a narrow one with bare sheets and a lumpy pillow.

Then beside it, beside it, there is something Kei's mind takes a little while to process.

The lone figure in the corner has it's head tucked between its knees, arms around his bent legs. It's pressed hard against the wall, like it wants to merge with it. "Come on, work, work..." He can hear it mutter. And it's impossible, impossible, because he can see the plaster through it, can see the places where the paint is peeling close to the floor. But Kei knows that figure better than his own, his hands, his lips have touched every inch of it, it belongs to the man that was his lover from age sixteen to age twenty, the man he was willing to throw away his relationship with his family and everything he ever had for. "Kuroo?" it's more of a surprised breath than a word.

And yes, yes, Kenma told him about this, about his suspicions. But Kei can't _feel_ him.

Kei _can't_ feel him.

The only people he can't feel are the dead.

And ghosts _don’t_ exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love to read what you think!
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	2. Soot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hard doesn't even begin to cover it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So as you all can see I'm extremely taken with this idea, lol keep hoping they're not too ooc.  
> I guess we'll see, hopefully.  
> There re going to be a lot of flashbacks, both in this and the next few chapters,because I love flashbacks

It’s not that he doesn’t register contact.

But it’s not the same, and while being semi-corporeal today has been more of a nuisance than anything else -if he had been his usual, intangible self he could have hidden from Tsukishima for a bit at least- he’s slightly grateful for it when he feels something brush over his hand.

For a second it feels like Tsukishima’s fingers won't go through.

But then they sink in, like Tetsuro’s hand is made of something less than solid.

Which it is, kind of.

It sends a shiver up his arm, the foreign feeling. He can't tell if the other’s hand is warm or cold, he can't even feel the material of the thick leather gloves that he wears.

Tetsuro looks up. “Hey Tsukki...” he says, trying to make his voice sound as even as possible. “I’m guessing Kenma finally got desperate enough?”

Tsukishima straightens up, eyes drifting away from Tetsuro’s form, so closed off that the pity and the disgust that he surely is feeling don't show through. “He’s paying me enough to buy a small town.”

“Huh, really?” Tetsuro chuckles, and it’s so bitter that it surprises even him. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when he left Tsukishima at that clearing, and he’s far too self-aware to expect any other reaction from the blond. “I don’t recall you ever needing money, funny.” Tetsuro continues, eyes fixed on the other’s face. “Maybe some magical artifact, even blackmail I would have assumed.” If Kenma was desperate enough, he could’ve and at this point, Tetsuro is sure he is, Bokuto too. They refuse to give up even though this is a lost cause.

And he really didn't want to involve Tsukishima in this, fuck.

“Times change.” Tsukishima tugs at his gloves, like he’s trying to make sure they haven’t slipped, even an inch. “It is a lot more than I usually charge but then again, you really made a mess here.”

“Well, there was a slight miscalculation.” Tetsuro sighs and stands up. “Did you already see it?”

“No.” The blond closes his eyes, a shiver making its way through his long, lean body. “But I can feel it, I’ve been here for less than ten minutes and I already have a headache.” He says, fingertips rising to rub circles at his temples. “Let's go, I have a feeling this is going to take more than one or two visits here.”

For a second, Tetsuro wants to step closer and do it for him, this is Tsukishima, _his_ Tsukishima. With slightly longer hair, but he’s still fond of breezy shirts in which he eventually gets cold, and wide pants tucked into warm leather boots. Hell, he’s still wearing the amber earring Tetsuro gave him. Only the gloves are new, Tetsuro wonders what his wife thinks about that.

They walk out of the room, a sensible distance between them, like they’re old acquaintances like Tetsuro is one of the many faces that graced the halls of the Tsukishima estate once or twice. 

This really is the worst day to not be able to just slip through walls, that would at least give him some time away while Tsukishima catches up. Tetsuro tries to hold himself back, he really, really does, but then he can’t stand the silence and this should be acceptable to talk about, right? “So…How’s marriage treating you?” 

Tsukishima looks back at him, an incredulous look in his eyes, before he whips back around. “I got married.” He says dryly and doesn’t elaborate further, doesn’t even look back to see Tetsuro’s expression.

“That’s descriptive.” He grumbles, yeah, so maybe that wasn't exactly the best thing to open with. Then again, the Tsukishima’s announced the wedding of their youngest son and heir like a month and a half, at most two months after Tetsuro left Karasuno alone on horseback that night. If anyone should feel easily replaced here-

No, that’s not fair.

He guides the blond to the kitchen, and down the small hatch that communicates the first floor with the basement, though now that he thinks about it it’s more of a cellar.

Even before the are all the way down, he hears Tsukishima gasp. Tetsuro wonders if it looks the same to both of them. To him, linked to the portal as he is, it looks like a dark vortex, drawing all the light in the room towards it. He could see the ley lines once, sometimes when he concentrates and has enough strength for it, he still can, but right now all he sees is the fragmenting light.

There are plenty of natural portals, they generally connect two specific positions and no one can cut the connection, it’s all old magic, based on things that few people understand and extremely difficult to find information about. Now portals that are actually _made_ are rare, there are currently less than there are fingers in his hand, and they always have been the result of accidents under extremely rare circumstances.

The ones people have tried to create, well...

Tend to explode.

“In my defense, it was perfectly stable until I used the lines to power it up and try to change the destination.” He says as Tsukishima’s feet hit the ground beside his. “I’ve gone inside, but it doesn’t lead anywhere anymore. It’s a dead end.”

Tsukishima scoffs. “I have no idea what you did, but it’s bad.” He takes a deep breath. “How did you manage to tangle Ley lines Kuroo?”

“I what?”

.

.

Bokuto and Kenma are anxiously waiting for him outside by the time Kei decides he’s done for the day. His head is pounding and he has gone through more than three kerchiefs, and that’s barely using his power.

“I need a drink.” He drawls out as soon as he’s within their hearing distance. 

“Hey, Tsukki!” Bokuto says, catching up to his fast pace. “What happened? What did you see? Do you think you can-“

“Let him breathe Bokuto-san.” Kenma interrupts him, and Kei is very glad for it. The convoluted, writhing mass of magic is burned into the backs of his eyelids, he sees it’s shadow every time he blinks, and with it a wave of despair washes over him.

Because he has no idea what to do. “I-“ he sighs. “There was a curse.” He says finally. “Probably more than one, attached to the ley lines, it seems that when he drew up their power the curses came with it.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Bokuto says, excited. “If we just go to where they were originally set and break them-“

“It isn’t just that,” Kei says. “The portal is actually well made. He managed it.” He looks down squashing the misplaced pride trying to bloom in his chest. “He managed but it leads nowhere, you know that portals like that collapse, right? I think the curses are keeping it steady, at least one of them seems to have something to do with permanence. If we just break them recklessly…” he trails off, but they both seem to understand.

“Are you sure his body’s in there?” Bokuto asks, breathing fast. “Maybe- maybe-“

Kei sighs, that’s the hardest part. “If it’s in there, I can’t feel it.” He hesitates but something in the other’s faces is telling him that they need to hear it. “I’m not sure there _is_ a body, I can’t feel him at all.” 

Kenma’s face falls, and Bokuto’s grip on his arm turns bruising. “Fuck, _fuck,_ I let him do it.” He sniffs. “I let him, and I told you, right? There was this explosion, it was small, but what if- It’s all my fault, I’m such a bad friend!”

He doesn’t have an answer for that, he’s not sure what Bokuto means with there having been an explosion, the cabin doesn’t look like it could withstand something big, it’s practically falling apart as it is. Thankfully Kenma steps in. “It’s no use to think about that now.” He says softly and then turns to Kei. “Would looking at his logs help you? I still have the key to his apartment.”

“I- actually, yes,” Kei says, pushing the comforting weight of his glasses up his nose. “That might be helpful, I still can’t wrap my head around how he managed it.”

“Well, let's go.” He says with pursed lips. “You can drink his good wine, it’s the least he owes you.”

A sigh makes it’s way out of Kei’s throat, for a second he wants to ask how much Kenma actually knows. Bokuto definitely doesn’t seem to have the whole story, or doesn’t act like he does, really. But then, that would do him no good, so he just nods and lets the shorter man lead him to the small apartment above a flower shop of all things.

It suits Kuroo.

Hell, even the tattered black and red robe that the intangible thing at the cabin wears suits him. For what its worth, Kei’s still torn between believing it’s just some sort of energy imprint and hoping it isn’t. It acts like Kuroo, _alright_ , a sadder, more resigned Kuroo, but that it’s his voice and those are his eyes.

Maybe it is the closest thing that _can_ exist to a ghost.

Kei shakes his head as they step inside, he was never here, the one time he visited Nekoma while they were together he was seventeen and Kuroo still lived with his grandparents. Still, it looks just like he imagined, it’s a large, open space with plenty of windows that let sunlight stream in, making the dust particles in the room glitter. Even though it’s not particularly warm outside, the chill doesn’t follow them in.

There are piles and piles of books and manuscripts, even loose pieces of paper with annotations or schematics. Kei spots Kuroo’s formal robe, the one he used to wear in the rare occasions when he actually acknowledged he was a fire mage and not some random adventurer, hung haphazardly from the edge of a dresser.

“How long-“

“Almost a year now.” Kenma calls, already in the kitchen. “I try to keep it relatively clean, but the dust piles on.” The dark-haired man steps out of the kitchen bottle of wine in his hand. He’s discarded his robe and left himself in some simple, dark pants and a short-sleeved shirt.

-it’s funny, only it isn’t, it’s a horrible coincidence-

Kei sighs, looking around himself, trying to pinpoint which pile of information might be useful. “Let’s start then.”

.

.

_There’s something about the man that irks Kei as soon as he sees him approach, striding confidently to the main house of the Tsukishima estate, summer sunlight dancing over his form. At first he thinks it s only the fact that this man somehow got in without Kei being alerted, even though the day wards are less restrictive, that shouldn't be possible._

_Unless he managed to get a guard to sneak him in._

_He’s apparently part of a group doing their Tour year -so he’s two or three years older than Kei himself-, the one with the guy who launched into the air yesterday at the market, if Yamaguchi is to be believed._

_Still, he’s annoying on sight, his hair stands up like he’s been electrocuted and he’s wearing his formal robe draped over one shoulder like it’s a potato sack, leaving his beige, sleeveless tunic that's supposed to barely show underneath, for all the world to see. Kei looks down at his own clothing, the pale gold of the embroidery at the edges of his tunic, the ample sleeves, and almost scoffs at himself. He can’t criticize, he probably looks like some sort of monochrome statue sitting on the steps like this._

_“Hey! Uh- I’m Kuroo Tetsuro, I wanted to speak to the owners?” He says nonchalantly- voice scaring the crows from where they are resting on the eaves over Kei's head- a hand on his hip and eyes that rove over Kei in a way that feels like_ too much _though he’s not sure of what. "Would you help me find them hon?"_

_Kei rises from the steps he’s currently sitting on, craning his head to the side in a way that he hopes is haughty. “Oh, you mean my parents?” a wave of satisfaction runs through him when he realizes that for all the two years the other probably has on him, Kei’s a little taller. “What for? I don’t recall them making it a habit to receive random tourists.”_

_The man rolls his eyes. “I knew you looked fancy.” He smirks, wide and sharp the white of his teeth a contrast to the tanned skin of his face and arms. “We’re asking for passage through your lands, the plan is to go up to the mountain range, wanna come?”_

_He can't help but scoff. “Passage? I thought you guys were having a drinking tour. What are you going to do in the mountains?” It’s not like his parents are going to say yes, why would they. Half of their lands are dense forests, and there’s at least one fire mage in the group. There’s no reason for them to trust these people._

_“We’re just looking for some fun.” He laughs, fanning himself with his hand. “And maybe less heat.”_

_“Aren’t you a fire mage?” Kei says, shooting a pointed glance at the robe, all sardonic amusement._

_Kuro laughs, and Kei spots a droplet of sweat slipping down the column of his neck. He swallows hard and turns around, motioning for the man to follow him. “I run hot, hon.”_

_“Please don’t call me that.” Kei’s teeth grind._

_“You didn’t give me a name.” Kuroo says, a cheeky grin plastered over his face. "What else am I supposed to do?"_

_“I’m Tsukishima Kei.” He says, and then smirks. “And just so you know, my dad’s going to say no.”_

_“Oya!” The man cranes his head to the side. “Are you a seer now brat?” he laughs. “I thought your family only had that bloodline… My offer stands though, we could do with either.”_

_“I’d rather not.” Kei scoffs again. Definitely, his first impression was right, the man is infuriating, he almost looks forward to the lecture his dad is sure to give Kuroo._

_He leads the man into the main hall and up the lavish staircase, making way for his parent’s wing. Kuroo keeps asking questions, where one or other artifact came from, how old the house is. For the most part, Kei has no idea, he hasn’t bothered to learn much about the history behind his parent's estate. The pass by his mother’s studio, when he hears a familiar, high pitched gasp. “- of course, Mikoto! It’s high time they started courting and this weekend is just perfect, I can’t-“_

_Kei has drifted closer to the door without noticing, only Kuroo’s voice snaps him out of it. “You have pho-“ he almost exclaims, Kei gets his hand over the other’s mouth just in time._

_“Yes, us and like two other people in town.” He whispers at the other. “Be quiet.”_

_“- I know it’s like Kei and Yui are just made for each other-“ he can feel himself gong a little green, ever since he turned sixteen he’s been subjected to his mother throwing him at every girl with a decent magical heritage in the town. He's not supposed to marry until he is at least eighteen, but it looks like she’s not taking chances, not after Akiteru._

_And she’s planning for this weekend too. Ugh._

_His father probably doesn’t know yet though. So there might be a way out. Kei laments what he’s about to do internally, but it’s better than another awkward weekend. He drags Kuroo away from the door., just enough that his mom won’t be able to hear him. “Put on your robe and try to fix your hair.” He grumbles._

_“Wha- Are you going crazy? I’ve heard it can happen to people with bloodlines like yours.” Kuroo snickers, but obediently slips his arms into the robe._

_“I’m helping you, you fool.” Kei sighs. “But only if you take me along, you did just hear the same thing I did, right?”_

_A small, understanding smile crosses Kuroo’s face. “Loud and clear. I have a friend with similar problems.” He reaches up to ruffle Kei’s hair. “Must be annoying, of course, you can come.”_

_“Uh- if I'm not, you're not.” Kei feels the urge to stick his tongue out at him, infantile as it sounds. “Now come on, is there anything magical we could say we’re going up there to study?”_

_“Oh, Tsukishima, you don’t know?”_

_._

_._

The vortex isn’t sentient, it isn’t even malicious. Whatever curses got tangled with it don’t seem to give it any sort of presence or intention. 

Tetsuro can't decide if that’s good or not.

He sits in front of it, watching the last of the day’s light be sucked in and dissolve into sparkling fragments before being swallowed up. Every surface of the room is covered in soot still, it has been since that day he and Bokuto tried to put the portal to work and it quite literally blew up in their faces.

He had been so sure, checked the connection to the place he set as it’s first destination and it had all been alright, since it was supposed to be one way neither of them went through, and then Tetsuro tried to change the place where it would lead them to somewhere closer and… well, _boom_. At least he managed to push Bokuto out of the way.

He doesn’t remember much else after, just waking up in front of the vortex as it is now and being unable to feel the cold of the night or the roughness of the ground beneath. He knew then and still knows now that he doesn’t have much in the way of hope and Tsukishima’s parting words to him this afternoon confirmed his earlier suspicions.

 _I can’t feel you_ , he said, and Tetsuro was with him for four years, he knows what that means.

He really, really didn’t mean to involve the blond in this, it’s not fair to either of them, and besides this is Tetsuro’s mess. His alone.

“You know, this would be a good time for you to blow up.” He tells the vortex. “They’re far away enough to be safe and I’m not naive enough to not know that when you disappear, I do too.” Tetsuro sighs. “At least then they could move on... Are you going to make me wait a full year? It’s not nice living like this, miss eating, and sleeping, actually sleeping not that hazy thing I do now.”

A peal of bitter laughter escapes him. Here he is, the promising protégé of old Nekomata, barely more than a figment of leftover magic talking to some aberrant portal like it understands.

The darkness doesn’t answer.

It never has.

.

.

_The soft glow of the lake reaches them even this far up._

_They are sitting on the rock edge of the ceiling that partially covers the lake’s cave. The soft, greenish glow bathes Tsukishima’s face, his pale skin gaining a tint that makes Tetsuro think of otherworldly creatures._

_His eyes, however, those eyes still glow golden._

_There’s a jubilant cry from beneath them, Tetsuro peers over the edge to try and see what happened. “Bokuto shoved Yaku in.” Tsukishima says, still looking up at the stars._

_“You know that just from one cry?” Tetsuro asks, incredulous._

_Tsukishima laughs, almost giddy, he’s a little drunk, they’re all a little drunk from the moonshine Bokuto lugged up just for this purpose. “No, I felt him go in,” he says turning his head to the side to meet Tetsuro’ gaze. “I think this place makes my powers more potent.”_

_“Well, you’re not usually able to tell us apart from this far,” Tetsuro mutters trying not to show how much Tsukishima amazes him. “Your power is totally unfair you know?” Tsukishima frowns at him. “You’re impossible to sneak up on.” Tetsuro says, grinning, marveling at how the blond’s cheeks grow darker._

_“Just because you and Bokuto can’t prank me easily.” He scoffs. “It’s not my fault you both ooze magic. I can barely feel Yaku-san most of the time.”_

_“Huh.” Tetsuro thinks for a second. “How do I feel Tsukki?” He has wanted to ask since the second day of the trip, when they discovered Tsukishima has a range of space around him in which he can sense m of any kind._

_No better time, he figures, Tsukki’s soft tonight, still sardonic and a bit difficult. But by far not as biting and closed off as he usually is. The blond blushes. “That’s rude to ask.” He says, eyes lifting to the sky above them again._

_“You had no problem in telling Bokuto he feels like the wind of a spring storm yesterday.” Tetsuro points out. “Come on, I wanna know if mine’s that poetic.”_

_Tsukishima takes a deep breath, eyes falling closed, head still tilted upwards. “It’s not poetic.” He grumbles. “Just very specific, and you are hard to put into words.” Tetsuro is about to say something, but then the blond keeps talking. “I think, like one of my dad’s muskets,” he says softly. “When he has just fired them, or a chimney, I don’t know, there’s something more but I-“_

_“So, like soot.” He can’t help but make the quip._

_Tsukishima’s eyes are on him again, wide and incredulous, like what Tetsuro has just said is the most ridiculous thing to ever have left a person’s mouth. He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Sure, like soot, whatever.”_

_More laughter echoes off the cave walls under them, it’s Bokuto again, Tetsuro doesn’t need Tsukishima to tell him, it’s a very characteristic laugh. So he doesn’t bother to try and take a peek, his eyes have better things to be looking at._

_As soon as they left Karasuno -with Tsukishima’s father’s blessing so long as Yamaguchi, Tsukishima’s squire could come along- the blond pretty much ripped the pretty, pale gold robes that Tetsuro met him in, off his body, and then proceeded to shove the garment at the bottom of his pack._

_Not that he blames him, summers here are too warm, even he had t slip out f the top part of his tunic after climbing up here, it now lies bunched around his waist._

_But then, removing the tunic left Tsukishima in a breezy white shirt with billowing sleeves, tucked into some high-waisted, wide pants that he promptly tucked into boots that his squire provided. The whole change did things it shouldn’t have to Tetsuro’s guts._

_Robes are stuffy and hardy appealing, with all the itchy embroidery and hanging tassels that get caught everywhere. Tetsuro can barely stand to wear his._

_And they hide the marvel of the other’s long, lean body. Which in his opinion is an offense grave enough to ban the damned things outright._

_Right now Tsukishima is in just the shirt, long pale legs dangling off the stone’s edge._

_Oh, Tetsuro didn’t think this would-_

_Tetsuro didn’t think._

_“I would appreciate it if you stopped looking at my legs.” Tsukishima’s voice is sobering. “Not all of us spend as much time as you do climbing mountains in those things that can hardly be called tunics,” he says, shooting a glance at the pants of Tetsuro’s tunic which have large slits at the sides._

_Tetsuro rolls his eyes, lifting his gaze so he’s unequivocally looking at the blond’s face. “That coming from someone who looked like he wanted to burn his robe as soon as we got to the mountain...” Tetsuro smiles. “I can get you a tunic if you want.”_

_Tsukishima huffs. “No thank you.”_

_“Aw, be nice firefly.” He mock whines. “I for one wouldn’t object to the view.” And all he expects is more snark in response, but it’s not what he gets at all._

_They’re looking straight into each other’s faces, their bare thighs are touching where they hang over the lake, but even if Tetsuro was a lot further away he could see the large blush that crawls right up to Tsukishima’s ears. “Oh, shut up.” The blond says softly, eyes flickering down for a second to Tetsuro’s mouth. Then he blushes harder and turns his face away, like he wants to hide it I his shoulder._

_If the thought of being a decent person and not acting on his impulses crosses Tetsuro’s mind, it is only for a second. His had comes up to grab at the blond’s chin, forcing his face to turn back towards Tetsuro. “I mean that, I do.”_

_Tsukishima’s lips are plump and a pale pink that sets off beautifully even in the bluish light, they press into a line for a second, and Tetsuro is sure he’s about to be thrown in the lake, but then the resistance in the blonds bod melts away all at once, and those lips part just the slightest bit._

_It’s a hungry kiss, full of curiosity, Tsukishima’s hands tangle in his hair and Tetsuro pulls him close. So close that it’s almost like Tsukishima’s shirt -the only garment separating their chests- isn’t even there. To him is like the cracking of a new fire, like the sound of smoothly fitting cogs._

_He never will know for certain, but at that moment, Tetsuro is sure that Tsukishima Kei feels like warm summer nights and a sharp tang of citrus._

_And he can’t get enough of it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for your Kudos and comments you are all so sweet.  
> I'd love to hear what you all thought about this one.
> 
> Love, Kyrye.


	3. Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History is hard to ignore, especially four years of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So here is another chapter, this one is one of my favorites.  
> I know I'm really keeping you guys in the dark, but I promise eventually everything's going to be clear.  
> Also, we have Akaashi!

The next time Koutarou heads down to the cabin with Tsukishima and Kenma, there is someone there, sitting on the porch steps. The man is pale, and everything about him holds a feeling of neatness, his hair curls gently around his ears and he’s clad in a viridian green robe, adorned with impeccable embroidery, not one wrinkle in sight.

Even his boots, peeking out from under the robe as he walks, have not a speck of dirt on then, which is quite a feat considering that the road here from the town is mostly unpaved, and they didn't see any carriages returning while on their way here.

He looks _too_ perfect.

The man stands up as they approach, eyes assessing and Koutarou can see that they are a startling grey-blue. Still, he can't help but feel on edge. “Who are you?” he snarls, stepping in front of the other two. Sometimes he forgets in his concern for Kuroo that the whole portal thing is very illegal and if the council finds out, at least _he_ is most certainly going to end up in jail.

The man sets his gaze on Koutarou and cranes his head to the side, in a graceful, bird-like gesture. “Akaashi Keiji.” He says. “I am here at Kozume-san’s behest.”

Kenma walks past him, a smooth smirk adorning his face. “It’s cute that you’re on your guard, but he’s just the earth mage I hired.”

A wave of relief sweeps over him but he still leans in to whisper to Kenma. “Are you sure he’s safe?”

Kenma smiles to himself a little, like he knows something no one else does. He probably does, knowing him, one doesn’t get _that_ rich this young without being at least decently sneaky. “He’s safe, don’t worry he won’t tell anyone.”

“I am not beholden to the council Bokuto-san, don’t worry.” The man says, walking towards them. With every stride, Koutarou finds him more striking. “Besides, I’m very interested in your friend’s unusual plight.” It’s like Koutarou can’t look away, the air mage sure has a large presence. “You must be Tsukishima.” He says, turning to the blond. “I’ve never met someone with your skills, I look forward to seeing you work.”

Tsukishima’s intelligent eyes asses the other, finally, he smiles slightly. “I’m glad you are here Akaashi-san.” He says, taking the hand Akaashi is offering. “We need your help.”

This time they all go in. Tsukishima didn’t exactly say how things went with Kuroo yesterday, but Koutarou can imagine. It’s hard to see his best friend like this, a literal figment of what he used to be, and every time he sees the other it seems to get worse. 

Akaashi falls into step beside him, blue eyes staring straight at Koutarou’s face. “You can be at ease with me, Bokuto-san.” He says when he sees Koutarou stiffen, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. “I owe Kozume a large favor.”

That’s not quite why Koutarou stiffened in the first pace, but oh well, he turns to look at the other, mouth spreading into a grin. “Then we’re in your care Akaashi.”

.

.

Kuroo is sitting on the stairs when they go n, even more transparent than yesterday. The tattered red and black robe doesn’t even wrinkle where it touches the wood, just phases right through. 

It’s sad to see, sad even though the man did break Kei's heart and set off a chain of events that culminated with- well ending Kei’s life as he knew it.

Still, that small part of him that still dreams of Kuroo on the occasion can’t help but fill with despair when he looks at the ghostly form. And it’s not only the fact that he’s semi-transparent, it’s the resigned tilt of Kuroo’s mouth, the way his shoulders hunch in the robe when Kei remembers the man always standing straight, back wide and reassuring.

This is not the Kuroo Tetsuro he knew, it’s not even the remorseful one that broke his heart.

“Kuroo.” He calls as they step in. snapping the other from whatever daydream he Is having. 

“Man. Kuroo, stop looking so gloomy.” Bokuto starts for him, arms draping over Kuroo’s shoulders, though Kei is pretty sure that the only thing keeping it from phasing through Kuroo is Bokuto’s muscles.

“Hey, Bo,” Kuroo says, with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Tsukishima. Kitty-cat, and…”

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” Kenma fumes, it does sound strange, coming from a full-grown man, Kuroo is- Kuroo would be about to turn twenty-four soon, if he wasn’t… it’s surprising how much it hurts, the mere thought of Kuroo maybe not being alive, at least not in the sense Kei is.

Akaashi steps forward. “Akaashi Keiji, earth mage.” He says, and luckily doesn’t try to offer Kuroo his hand like he did Kei. “Kozume-san called me.”

One of Kuroo’s dark eyebrows rises. “Oh.” He stands from his crouched position on the stairs. “Well, I can show you the basement now if you want?”

“That would be agreeable, yes.” Akaashi answers, face somehow paler than before, eyes tracing Kuroo’s form. Kei sees him shoot Bokuto a puzzled glance, but prefers not to comment on it, it’s not the time. 

They all head downstairs, to the soot-covered room with the knot of light in the middle, Kei tries to hang on the back, and even then he can already feel a nosebleed coming. He doesn’t take his glasses off yet. The magic calls to him, a beating heart, the core of a mountain, but it also makes his body heavy and his head hurt. 

Akaashi steps forward, face pale but determined, his perfectly maintained robe making a rustling sound with every step, and everyone is quiet, observing, Bokuto's muscles are tense where Kei can see them through the slits on his sleeves. 

The dark-haired man reaches the place where the ley lines rise and tangle around each other, he can probably see them, because he leans down, and presses his palm to a spot in the ground with confidence.

Nothing happens for a second.

And then Kuroo screams and rushes to the other man. “Get away from it!” Akaashi raises his head, confused, just as he’s thrown backward hard enough that had he hit the wall, he would have surely ended up injured. Its lucky Bokuto is here, as is the only one fast enough to intervene. He doesn’t catch the earth mage as much as he receives the other’s body with his chest and is thrown back along with him.

The booming sound their bodies make as they collide with the cellar’s wall is deafening.

“Thank you.” Akaashi pants, sitting up and twisting in Bokuto’s hold to look at the air mage. “Bokuto-san, are you alright?”

Bokuto lifts his head from where he’s lying in a heap against the wall, there’s a bleeding gash on his temple, and he looks disoriented. “Ouch.” He says and shakes his head, blinking owlishly. “Are you hurt Akaashi?”

Akaashi heaves an exasperated sigh. “I fell on you.” He says, shaking his head and raising a hand to the place where Bokuto’s head is bleeding, it glows for a second, and when the hand comes away the gash is gone. “Of course I’m unhurt. Is there anywhere else you need healing?”

“I think my back’s bruised,” Bokuto says, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Turn around then,” Akaashi says, Bokuto does and as the earth mage starts working over his bruises, he also begins talking. “There are two curses.” He says, keeping his eyes on the hurt skin of Bokuto’s back. “Tied to the lines at least. They seem to be affecting Kuroo-san through them, which might explain his current condition. I think I can lead us to the places where their anchors are.”

“And then?” Kuroo asks.

Akaashi hums. “I’m not sure.” He sighs. “It’s pretty clear that the portal is only stable because of those curses. I think if we were to break them we would have to do it here and at the same time. That should be possible if we can bring the anchors back but…”

“But the lines might go crazy like right now anyway.” Kenma whispers, and Kei can spot the hopelessness in his voice, clear as day. 

This sucks. “I think I can control them,” Kei says, stepping forward. “Enough to try and get Kuroo back at least. But you’re going to have to find some way to get us out of here fast after that because if the portal blows it won’t matter.”

He turns to the side, where wide, cat-like eyes are observing him. “I can take care of that,” Kenma says. “There’s a barrier spell that should at least keep you two safe.”

Kei isn’t going to say it, but odds are the plan isn’t going to go like that, if they can even return Kuroo to his corporeal state, they are going to have less than a minute before the portal collapses on itself and blows everything in a five-mile radius to pieces. It is lucky that the cabin is a decent distance away from the town or it would be impossible to do.

He turns to look at Kuroo. The man’s face betrays a sort of incredulous hope. But his hands are clenched into fists at his sides and his brow is furrowed. “You can't do that.”

“Kuro, I know how-“ Kenma starts, but Kuroo quickly interrupts him.

“No, no I can’t let you do that, Tsukki and whoever else is in here will probably die.” He snarls. “I’m already- I can’t let any of you do that.” It’s the first time since yesterday that Kuroo calls him by that old nickname, it brings memories rushing past Kei’s head. He shuts them down, takes a deep breath, and tries to remember that he’s supposed to hate this man at least a little.

Now fully healed, Bokuto rises to his full height, it takes two strides of his legs, after he puts his robes back in place- to approach Kuroo until he’s standing right in front of him. “And I can't lose my best friend.” Bokuto growls. “Tetsu, we can’t give up. I know you don’t want to put anyone in danger, especially- but well, we're doing it.”

“It’s not like you can stop us.” Kenma sighs, stepping forward too, eyes trained on Kuroo’s face. “I’m sorry Kuro, you can be mad all you want after.” And Kei understands him, too well even. When he was in a position to do the same thing for Tadashi he didn’t hesitate either, despite what it meant for him.

He didn’t have much to lose anyway, by that point.

Cornered, Kuroo looks around the room, his eyes find Kei’s, the desperation in them apparent. “You can't be thinking of agreeing.” He pleads. “It will be you in the worst danger.” There’s something else in the way he says the words though. Like he is sure that Kei will say no, that he’ll abandon Kuroo to disappear in this cabin. “It would be really stupid for you to do this, you have a-“

“I’m doing it,” Kei says, stubbornly grinding his teeth. “I’ve done more dangerous things. I’m not the child you knew anymore, Tetsuro.” He can’t stand the way Kuroo is looking at him, he can't stand to be here a second more. Kei storms up the rickety stairs, for once not minding the creaking, it drowns out Kuroo’s voice, softly uttering his name.

“Kei.”

.

.

 _“Kei.” The familiar voice chases him through the little inn where they are staying in Kamomedai, and Kei doesn’t dare look back, he can't, he_ can't.

_Because if he does, he is going to give in and he will not allow that to happen. Kei walks down the hall as fast as his legs will carry him, this palace only has electricity for the rooms so the candles that line the corridor dwindle and sputter as Kei rushes past, flaring brighter a second later, no doubt in Kuroo’s wake._

_Kei arrives at their shared room, rushes over to his side, the bed that has not been touched in the five days they have been here, and starts stuffing his belongings in his bag._

_Coming here was a mistake. Asking his father for permission to accompany the others on their Tour, falling in love with Kuroo, everything was a mistake._

_Tadashi, he needs Tadashi, they have to leave no._

_“Kei wait,” Kuroo says from the door, each of his breaths is labored, panic fills his eyes. “You can’t just say that and- Are you leaving?”_

_And Kei can’t think, he can't look at the other or hear his voice. It has been enough and he can’t do this, it will be like what happened with Akiteru, only worse. “Yes, I have to go home.” Kei finishes stuffing the few clothes he has. “I don’t think I should keep traveling with you.”_

_“What?” Kuroo stands frozen at the door. “You just- you just told me you love me.” His voice goes lower and lower with each word, riddled with anger. “Is this some sort of joke?” the man growls, and Kei can see the candles in the corridor flare as high as torches._

_So it seems, he isn’t getting out of here easily. “It is not.” Kei sighs. “Look, this isn’t about you Kuroo.”_

_The dark-haired man steps further into the room, slamming the door behind him and leaning into it, as if that is going to prevent Kei from leaving. “Sure, you are all sweet sitting in my fucking lap telling me you love me one second, I blink and you’re running away back to Karasuno. I’m sure it has_ nothing _to do with me.”_

 _There is a window too behind Kei and he_ is _desperate enough._

_He could blast Kuroo and the door into the corridor and jump down, it’s a two-story building, at most he might sprain his ankle. But then he looks at the man’s face again._

_Kuroo can be all enthusiastic bravado and noise, he can also be breathless admiration and timid touches. Kei has never seen him be anger and disillusionment and he is glad that he probably will never see it again. But he can’t bring himself to just jump out of Kuroo’s life. The older man has done absolutely everything right and it is not his fault Kei went and fell in love with him._

_He deserves an explanation._

_Kei feels his shoulders sag and then his legs buckle, he falls sitting on the bed. “It really isn’t about you.” He croaks, looking at the place where there’s a hole between the floorboards._

_He expects more yelling, but Kuroo is silent, after a few seconds of silence the older man walks to his own bed and sits on it directly in front of Kei. “Then what is it? I’m listening.” There’s still anger tinging his voice, but also genuine curiosity._

_“I’m my family’s heir.” He says, eyes still stubbornly trained on the hole between the floorboards._

_Kuroo hums. “I thought you had an older brother. Yamaguchi mentioned it.”_

_“Yes, that is true.” Kei tries to measure his tone, keep it even because something tells him that if he starts crying he won’t be able to stop. “My parents exiled him when I was thirteen, I know he still lives in Karasuno, somewhere on the outskirts but he can’t go into the town itself or anywhere near the estate.”_

_He hears Kuroo take a deep breath. “Why?” he asks, and Kei can't help but look up to see the understanding that he knows is filling Kuroo’s face._

_“I never met her,” Kei says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “But she doesn’t have magic, and our bloodline… it doesn’t transfer unless both the parents have it.” Kuroo’s eyes are full of pity now, and Kei can’t stand it, he hates being pitied. “That’s why my mom is so bent on marrying me off as on as I’m eighteen, I thought- I thought this could be just-“ it’s too hard to talk around the knot in his throat now._

_“An affair.” Kuroo offers, and it feels like too little for what they are, too little and unimportant when Kei has spent about half of these past four months wishing he could just be some random villager, so he could latch on to Kuroo without caring about anything else, and never let go._

_Still, he nods. “I haven’t seen my brother since they eloped,” Kei admits, ashamed, burying his face in his hands so Kuroo won't see how red his cheeks are getting. “My parents won’t let anyone tell me where he lives.”_

_A few minutes pass, Kei isn’t brave enough to look up. He hates people pitying him. Even Tadashi looks at him with that particularly soft gaze when it comes to this,_ especially _Tadashi, the first boy Kei kissed, the first person he told that he is definitely not interested in women._

_He is about to sigh and bed to retrieve his bag when the bed dips beside_

_him, the familiar warmth radiating off Kuroo is calming, even now and it takes a lot of willpower for Kei to remain where he is, -bent over, elbows on his knees, hands covering his face- and not lean into it._

_“I know this isn’t common.” Kuroo starts, voice low and rough, not a hint of anger to be found. “And I-“ He sighs, one of his had comes to grip Kei’s shoulder, tugging at it. “Look at me, please,” Kuroo says softly, and Kei’s willpower breaks like it was never there. “I won’t hold it against you if you want to be your parent’s heir or whatever else. For some people, things like that matter a lot, and if it’s like that for you I understand. Especially after your brother.” Kuroo’s eyes are soft, sad, they trace Kei’s face. “I will respect it. I will.” He repeats as if convincing himself._

_“Then-“ Kei reaches down for his bag, but Kuroo’s voice stops him._

_“I’m not done.” He says. “I will respect whatever you want to do. But I- You need to know that I love you too.” Kei’s heart starts pounding in his chest, in his ears, in his shoulder where Kuroo’s hand still lays, warm and reassuring. “And I’m not as rich or powerful as your parents, I probably can’t do much against them.” He looks away, eyes glassy. “But if you don’t want to be that heir, if you will have me-“_

_Kei shakes his head, feeling hot tears slide down his face, overwhelmed with emotion. “I still have two years of training-“_

_“I can wait.” Kuroo rushes to say. “I can visit, no one will see anything weird about that, and then when you’re eighteen-“ His free hand closes around Kei’s chin, just like the first time they kissed. “When you’re eighteen we can do whatever you want. I’ll be with you.”_

_There are a lot of things that Kei isn’t honest with himself about, how much he wants to see Akiteru again is one, how much he really appreciates Tadashi is another, but this,_ this _is a truth too big, too heavy. It was manageable until Kuroo said he loved him back, now it’s not something that can be ignored or pushed to the back of his mind._

 _If Kei leaves here tonight -he_ can _leave here tonight-, if he does, he is never going to be able to forget this, Kuroo’s sad eyes will be on the back of his eyelids for as long as he has to live, and it would all be for what? To maintain some legacy he has never had any interest in, to give the people who sent his brother away exactly what they want._

_Akiteru wasn’t a coward, Kei isn’t one either._

_His grip on the strap of the bag disappears and he surges forward, joining his lips with Kuroo’s warm ones arms awkwardly wrapping around the man’s middle. Kuroo freezes for a second, like he was expecting Kei to leave, like he thinks what he just said couldn’t be reason enough for him to stay._

_And then he is everywhere, hands pulling Kei as close as possible, clutching him almost desperately to Kuroo’s broad chest._

_His tongue delves deep into Kei’s mouth mapping out every contour of it, even though by now he knows the as well as the lines of his own palms._

_It’s Kei who has to part for air, panting and flushed, his eyes seek Kuroo’s out. “Say you’re staying.” The man says, gently guiding Kei down so he’s lying on his back on the lumpy mattress._

_“I’m staying.” Kei answers, transfixed by the other's expression, the way Kuroo’s lips curl into a genuine smile. “If you’ll have me.”_

_Kuroo laughs, the sound deep and rich, making Kei’s stomach feel hollow and too full at once. He leans down to pepper Kei’s face and neck with kisses. “Always.” He says, lips brushing over that spot in Kei’s neck that makes him melt, hands sliding under the silk shirt that he is wearing. “You're mine.”_

_Kei helps him sip the shirt up over his head, and as Kuroo starts kissing down his chest, eyes bright and smiling like Kei never has seen before, he thinks, yes, yours,_ yours, _yours._

_._

_._

Tetsuro takes a deep breath -does he even need to breathe now? He isn’t sure- and steps outside.

He isn’t fond of doing so, especially in his more non-corporeal days, because the light goes right through him, and though he can handle his semi-transparency in the darkness of the house, out here it’s too evident. And he hates feeling sorry for himself. After all, this whole mess is his fault, and he got everyone else into it.

Tsukishima is sitting on the first porch step, which is lucky for Tetsuro, since he can’t go much further than that -already, he feels the vortex tugging at his chest, reclaiming its hoard- Tetsuro slips over to sit beside the blond.

“Wha-“ Tsukishima jumps, an undignified squeak escaping his throat.

“I don’t make much noise anymore, huh?” Tetsuro tries to smile at him, he does. “I guess I can finally sneak up on you.”

The blond blinks at him, blinks, and starts laughing, low and humorless, “It’s not funny.” He says, clutching his stomach. “It’s not funny, shut up.”

It takes a while for the blond to calm down, and he looks exhausted when he does, shoulders hunched, hands pressed behind him. “What do you want?” he says after a while, voice dry and annoyed, eyes fixed on the pastures ahead of them.

“You know what.” Tetsuro sighs. Looking out at the green fields too, wondering if they are really the last he is going to see of the world outside the cabin. He can’t deny that a part of him refuses to give up hope. Sure, it’s smaller every day, he isn’t bouncing around the house trying to find a way to free himself like the first few months, but it’s there. Still, he can’t let them do this. Tsukishima especially. “Go home Tsukki. You have things to-“

“You don’t know anything about me.” Tsukishima spits, bitterness coating his tone. “Don’t act like you do.”

Tetsuro sighs. “I know enough.” He lays his weightless hand over Tsukishima’s left hand, which is snugly covered with a black leather, fingerless glove. “You have a life-“

“Yes!” Tsukishima stands up, golden eyes filled with anger and resentment. “My life, and I will do what I _want,_ you have no right to try to choose for me. Or to convince me of anything, not anymore.” He says, and storms off in the direction of the carriage that brought everyone here,

Tetsuro calls for him, but his voice doesn’t carry much outside of the house and if he takes another step he is just going to be pulled back to the basement like some sort of doll on a string.

“Oh, now he’s going to be snappy all the way back,” Bokuto says from behind him.

Apparently, they had an audience all along. Tetsuro knows better than to try to convince them too. He thought Tsukishima was the weak link, hoped the blond would hate him for the way he left enough to just leave Tetsuro to his fate.

“Bo…” he starts, but finds that there’s nothing to say. 

“Akaashi and I are going to head off to look for the anchors,” Bokuto says confidently, walking past him. “We’ll have you out of here soon, I promise.”

Akaashi excuses himself with a nod, Kenma stops to give him a long look, like he wants to say something about the conversation they all surely overheard. But he shakes his head at the last moment. “Take care Kuro.”

And Tetsuro watches them go.

.

.

_He’s standing his ground, feet planted firmly on the fancy, tiled floor of the large main hall of the Tsukishima estate. After many instances where they backed down, after two years of planning and hoping, though they know this won’t go well, here they are._

_It took a lot of preparation, for both of them, even last night, as they rode back to Karasuno in the carriage after a month of visiting Tetsuro’s hometown -all with Kei charming his way into his grandparent’s hearts- Kei almost made them turn back. It took a lot of reassurances from Tetsuro for the blond to even allow them to continue approaching Karasuno._

_Tetsuro stares straight ahead, at the figures seated primly at the main table, draped in golden robes, faces frozen somewhere in between surprise and disgust._

_Beside him, his lover is all but shaking, the grip of his sweaty hand on Tetsuro’s is almost painful._

_He looks beautiful again today, hair longer than when they met, no robe in sight, just one of those lovely ruffled shirts and riding pants that make his slim waist even more eyecatching than usual. Kei, his Kei._

_The first one to break the stillness in the room is Tsukishima’s mother, Midori, she gasps, horrified, and hurries to her son, shoving weakly at Tetsuro as she traces his hands all over his lover. “You aren’t charmed. No, baby, it’s not possible. You can’t-“_

_The young man hangs his head. “I’m sorry mom.” He says softly. “It is, if you two want to exile me now it-“_

_She pulls back, horror filling her face. “No, no, no.” the woman with Kei’s eyes and lips mutters. “I can't accept it.”_

_And then he shoves at her son, her arms re too weak to make him lose balance, he barely takes a step back from the shock. And then Tsukishima Midori storms out, the grand double doors opening before she even reaches them, pure magic emerging from her form in such waves that even Tetsuro can see it._

_He turns to take a look at Kei’s face, his lips are pressed into a thin line, but he looks more sure than ever, gaze turned straight towards his father. Tetsuro turns that way too, hoping against all evidence that the man will have some mercy on his son, he wasn’t born into this family -air mage, Tetsuro remembers Kei telling him at some point- maybe there’s a chance with him._

_But the tall, blond man looks upon his son with disappointment in his eyes. “You want to kill your mother, is that it?” he asks, voice booming. “You want her to get ill like when your brother-“_

_“I thought I didn’t have a brother.” Kei bites back. “I thought no one could speak of him.”_

_Tsukishima Kazuma sputters. “You’re as stubborn as him. Stubborn and ungrateful, letting yourself be corrupted by this interloper.” He gestures at Tetsuro. “I would banish you, I would but I fear your mother would die from it.”_

_Tetsuro squeezes his lover's hand, hoping it’s reassuring to him. “Then-“_

_“Get out of my sight.” The man bellows. “Both of you, and don’t think I am done with this-“ he gestures between them. “Aberration between you two.”_

_There’s nothing to do but obey, after dreaming this moment for two years, Tetsuro can’t believe it went down so… bloodlessly. His lover seems to be thinking along the same lines, that tired golden gaze meets his. “It could have been worse.” He says pressing closer to Tetsuro’s body as they reach the house's doors, scaring the crows that often hang out there. “We should go.”_

_“Are you staying with me at the inn today?” he asks although he already knows the answer._

_“Yes.” Kei sighs. “Every time I spend more than a week away the wards make my head hurt the first few days.”_

_Tetsuro presses a short kiss against his temple. “I’m not complaining, firefly.”_

_“I know.” Kei sags against him. “I love you.”_

_“I love you too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what did y'all think about this?  
> Thank you everyone for always being so sweet.
> 
> Love, Kyrye.


	4. Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking curses isn't so easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So this chapter has a lot of BokuAka and plot, because at some point I decided that this had to somewhat make sense. I hope you all like it.  
> (in this, an anchor is something that a curse has to be tied to to work, it can be anything, but object made of any metal re preferable, depending on the nature o the curse, they are safe or not to touch and move, and when they involve some sort of permanence of the subject to a place they are usually tied to the energy lines.)  
> hope that makes sense.

Keiji is a relatively polite person.

And in Bokuto’s defense, it was him that suggested the air mage just flew them to the first place they had to visit, so Keiji would have an easier time, just following the ley line instead of having to look for it again after they get to the town.

Of course, he had never been _flown_ anywhere, and now the other’s initial hesitance makes every bit of sense.

Usually, turning his face around and burying it in the furs that cover Bokuto’s shoulder would be embarrassing enough for Keiji to brave whatever else was making him want to, as it is, he’s sure that his nose will be frozen by the time they arrive if he doesn't.

So he curls into his face and greedily presses it into the collar of the furs that covers the man’s warm chest, trying to suppress the shivers that take over him.

Bokuto notices though, and Keiji can feel the ground coming closer soon after. “Hey, hey.” The man’s deep voice reaches his ears, too close and this time Keiji does flush. “That’s why I told you maybe we should take the carriage.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t let go or try to make Keiji stand on his own, because he’s sure that with the way he is shivering, he couldn’t stay standing for more than a couple of seconds. “You were right.” He admits, nose still buried in the warm furs that smell of musk and ginger. “I am sorry.” His teeth shatter, although the ground is blissfully less frigid, it still is nearing the end of autumn. “D- do you know any spells for-“ he tries to keep talking but he is shaking too badly.

“Well, I have this,” Bokuto says, gesturing to a bronze medallion hanging over his chest. “Kuroo made it for me a few years back, but it’s spelled so it just works for me.” He hums. “Do you mind If I set you down for a second?”

Keiji does mind, actually, a lot, but he doesn’t want to look even weaker, so he allows the other to carefully set him on the ground. Large, bronze-colored eyes stay trained on him at all times while the other shrugs off the thick, grey fur cape he wears and drapes it over Keiji’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that,” Keiji says, even as he clutches the thick cape to himself, glad for the left over heat from Bokuto’s body. “It shouldn't be long before we get there.”

Bokuto frowns a little, thick arms crossing over his chest, the grey and white robe that he wears strains over his shoulders. “I once had to get Kenma to some hot springs.” He says. “And that was in my hometown, I knew where to find them.”

“Well thank you,” Keiji says, as he finally starts to feel his hands. “For catching me back at the cabin too.”

A large grin takes over the man’s face. “You already thanked me for that.” He says, arms waving out in a wide, sweeping motion. “I can’t believe you’re a healer, it’s awesome.”

“It is a useful skill.” Keiji agrees pulling the cloak tighter around himself. “Are you sure nothing else hurts?”

The man lets out a booming laugh, and twirls around, giving Keiji a very good view of his muscled body. “Yup.” He says. “You left me good as new.”

“I’m glad,” Keiji says. “We should get going, your friend is waiting.”

Bokuto frowns at him. “Only if we take a carriage to the other place.” He says. “Kenma might kill me if I let you get sick.”

Something is charming about the man’s demeanor, maybe it is because it spells a stark contrast between it and the way Bokuto looks. This is the last thing he expected when he saw the large man covered n furs standing beside Kozume. “Alright.” Keiji agrees. “I’m not fond of getting sick either.” He walks closer to the other, ready to give back the cape.

“Hey, no.” Bokuto stops his hands before they can even pull the cloak off. “I’m going to go fast, so you're less exposed. You don’t have to hold on, just keep your face covered.”

For a second, Keiji is silent. “Are you sure that’s safe?” he asks, even as he pulls the cape up to cover his head like a hood. Yes, definitely not what he expected. For a second he is glad he owes Kozume such a large favor, this whole situation is fairly interesting.

Illegal as it is.

“I won't drop you,” Bokuto says, holding his arms out to him. “Promise.”

Strangely, a part of Keiji is eager to believe in him. His eyes scrutinize Bokuto’s face, but he doesn’t find anything other than confidence in it. “Very well,” Keiji says.

“May I?” Bokuto asks, placing one of those thick arms around Keiji’s waist.

“Yes.”

.

.

Kenma studies the man from the other side of the room.

They have found themselves at Kuroo’s apartment again, agreeing that the best they can do while Akaashi and Bokuto retrieve the anchors is to try and find more clues in the mess of loose paper and dust that is the apartment.

He knows they probably won’t find anything either of them can interpret correctly, though. Kuroo had spent several years before he and Tsukishima split studying portals, and after the split, it became a singleminded obsession, he traveled to remote places to get information, there are books in here in languages that even he can’t understand.

As a rule, he doesn’t meddle in his friends' romantic affairs, but as he watches Tsukishima, who is pretending to look through the bookshelves while absentmindedly brushing his fingers over the hem of Kuroo’s old robe, he wonders if he should have broken that particular rule back then.

He didn’t actually find out until after Kuroo got back here, though, so maybe it would’ve done no good.

Still, the fact that Tsukishima doesn’t take those gloves off even to eat, unsettles him.

“He is right, you know that.” Kenma states, and he knows the blond has heard him from the way he stiffens. “I didn’t ask you here thinking that you could end up dying.”

It’s not that he’s giving the blond an out, really, partly because he knows that stubborn look, the council itself could come down here to persuade him and Tsukishima would still insist on going through with the plan. But some part of Kenma does pity Kuroo enough to see how much this must nag at him, even if that part is easily overridden by the part that just wants his childhood friend back. 

“But it was always a possibility.” Tsukishima sighs. “Look, I know the risk, and I have spent the last year handling curses. I can take care of myself.”

It isn’t much of an answer. “You’re a lot more selfless than I remember,” Kenma says, taking a step towards Tsukishima. “One would think you ought to have put up more of a fight.”

The blond rolls his eyes. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks, fingers tightening at the hem of the red robe. “If I were you lot I would be grateful.” He says. “You’re right, I have no reason to do this, but it’s my business if I decide to do it or not.”

“Huh.” Then again, Tsukishima is as bad at deflecting as he is a liar. It’s written all over his face, Kenma remembers seeing that look there often before Kuroo decided to believe Tsukishima’s father and everything went sideways. “I am grateful.” He says, busying himself with a pile of papers on one of the wooden tables. “But if you wanted to go to Karasuno for a couple of days to see your wife none of us would take offense.”

Tsukisihima’s hands curl into fists, and the way he grinds his molars together is almost audible. “That isn’t necessary,” he says, breathing out long and resigned. “And please, it's none of your business, so leave it alone.”

Kenma shoots one last look at the black leather gloves covering Tsukishima’s hands. It’s not uncommon for people to hide their Vow marks, fingerless gloves like the ones Tsukishima wears are a trend right now precisely for that reason. But this isn’t some clandestine tryst, or a back alley bar, everyone who knew Tsukisihima back then received the invitations to that wedding after all.

Something about the whole situation is weird. Tsukishima is hiding something.

Maybe _he_ should be the one making a quick visit to Karasuno.

It’s not that far by train.

.

.

It does strike Kei as strange that Kenma leaves about halfway into the afternoon with some excuse that he doesn't even bother paying attention to.

But he’s glad to be rid of the awkwardness, after all, Kenma has the way of looking at him like he can see every one of Kei’s secrets without him having to even open his mouth. And Kei has a lot of secrets, or at least, things he would prefer other people not know right now. 

He sighs letting his body fall on a plush, worn-looking couch.

At this point, he isn’t sure if the fact that he doesn’t share any memories with Kuroo in this place is worse or better. Kei gave him everything, he wanted nothing but to be with the other man, to the point where at some point o another he decided that maybe not ever seeing his parents or living in Karasuno again was a fair price to pay. And then, here he is, from what Kenma has told him, Kuroo has been trapped in the house for a little over a year now. Which means he left this place what? A month or two after he left Kei?

And yet there’s nothing of him here, not that he expected Kuroo to keep any trinkets they collected together. But it’s like anything that Kei might’ve touched at any point was purged from here. Only the red robe holds any recollection for him, and he was sure that even that was new, except for a very familiar burn mark on the wrist of the right sleeve.

There’s nothing useful here, they already found the problem, that it’s dangerous and potentially lethal to solve is not going to change even if he memorizes all these books.

Kei groans and rises from the couch, heading to the cabinet that Kenma got the wine out of yesterday. He finds a bottle, not caring to check what it is or from when.

Truly, he wishes he could leave. No actual wife is waiting for him at Karasuno, no one but his brother, really, and it’s not like he had a purpose in wandering around other than avoiding his parents while a year passed and the vow faded.

Maybe it’s that.

Ever since he and Kuroo split, he has been wandering, no purpose, nothing but letting time pass by him. It’s not completely Kuroo's fault, but Kei can't help but cling to this now.

He doesn’t want Kuroo back, he isn’t that naïve anymore. 

But he also doesn’t want the other to disappear and know that maybe, in one of a thousand possible scenarios, he could have done something about it.

Kei takes a swig of the bottle and goes to sit in the shadows beside the red robe, wondering how life can have such sharp turns.

.

.

_“I can’t win with you, uh?” he says though he knows his voice drips with fondness for the man beside him._

_Kuroo hums, low in his throat. “I’m perfectly fine in places that don’t have such extreme seasons, really Tsukki.” He gestures around them. “Winter barely just began and it’s already snowing.”_

_Kei rolls his eyes, bumping his hip with the other’s. “I thought you ran hot. Besides, it isn't the usual. This is the coldest winter we have had in fifty years.”_

_“Which is why this cold leeches my warmth!” Kuroo protests, pressing himself against Kei’s side. They’re in a pretty deserted road on the outskirts of Karasuno, so Kei allows it, it’s not like their relationship hasn’t been the talk of the town for a year now. "Well it's annoying, we should head south."_

_“I never thought big bad, fire-mage Kuroo would be such a baby with weather of all things.” Kei shoots back, his feet, clad in fleece-lined boots continuing to drag him to the little house that he can see coming closer and closer at the end of the road._

_“You love it,” Kuroo says, hands snaking under Kei’s fur cape. “But I don’t mind, that you hide it, your grumpy face is adorable, firefly.”_

_Kei scoffs, but they are too close to the house now and anxiety takes a hold of him. “Are you sure it’s here?” he asks, turning to look at his lover in his brown fur cloak and dark robes under it._

_Kuroo purses his lips. “No one has any reason to lie to me.” He shrugs. “It should be here.”_

_Shivering under his own cape, and not exactly from the cold, Kei steps forward the three meters that separate him from the door and grabs the handle of the simple bronze knocker. In the relative solitude of the clearing, the sound it makes each time he swings it seems so much louder than it is._

_A tall, blond man answers the door. His jaw is squared and strong, his shoulders are wide._

_Kei almost doesn’t recognize his older brother. Though that isn’t strange, it has been six years since Akiteru came into his room and told him that he hoped they could see each other again at some point._

_Told him to be happy._

_Now he is taller than Akiteru, noticeably so._

_They stare at each other for a second, before he is being pulled into his older brother’s arms and squeezed with such force that it’s comparable to Bokuto’s farewell hugs. Kei timidly lifts his hands to lay on his brother’s back._

_It takes a while for them to separate and when they do, Akiteru’s eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Come on in, it’s cold outside.” He says. “This must be Kuroo.” He says, looking at the dark-haired man._

_“So it seems I’m well known around here.” His lover says, stepping forward to offer Akiteru his hand. “Kuroo Tetsuro.”_

_“I’m Akiteru, I guess you know that.” His brother says. “And you two have made quite a stir. Of course, I know who you are.”_

_For a moment, the air between them turns tense, but there is no animosity in Akiteru’s voice, only mild concern, and Kei can’t blame him from that. They are soon ushered in, and Akiteru serves them some strong tea in identical china cups. “I’m sorry, I would show you around but the girls are napping.” He says softly.”_

_“Girls?” Kei asks, it’s not like it is unexpected, Akiteru has been married for six years now._

_“They’re twins. Just turned three.” Akiteru clarifies. “Saeko took our oldest to the market, they will probably be back soon.”_

_“Oh.” Kei busies himself with his tea, so he has had nieces all this time, and never knew. Suddenly he feels a lot more guilty for not doing his best to seek Akiteru out before. “Saeko is your wife, right?” he says, eyeing the vow on his brother’s left hand, it’s a stupid question, but it buys him time to process._

_“Yes,” Akiteru says, a longing in his voice that Kei knows too well. “You never met her formally I think. Her brother Ryuu-kun is a blacksmith’s apprentice, maybe you know him?”_

_“Ryuu? You mean as in Tanaka.?” Kuroo jumps to ask._

_Kei hopes not, he has met the man twice and both times ended up with something unpleasant being spilled on his clothes._

_“Yes!” his brother says. “Exactly, Ryuu-kun has been a big help with the kids, he and Yuu-kun are always around here, if you cam ea bit earlier you would have bumped into them.” There is a moment of silence, and then Akiteru speaks again. “I’m glad you aren’t mad anymore.”_

_“I was never mad,” Kei says, frowning. “Why would you think that?”_

_“Well, father said-“ Akiteru grimaces. “Of course he was lying, nevermind, you’re here now.”_

_“No, what did he say?” Kei bites back, annoyed. “I didn’t come because he pretty much forbade everyone from telling me where you lived.”_

_Akiteru hums. “He said you didn’t want to see me again, and that you had free reign to leave the estate, so it was clearly your choice to not visit me.”_

_A wave of anger washes over Kei, beside him, Kuroo covers his free hand in his warm, large one. “That’s no the case.” He says, turning to look at Kuroo. “Clearly.”_

_Akiteru smiles. “I know-“_

_“Daddy?” a small voice calls from deeper in the house. And Akiteru excuses himself to go bring the twins._

_Kei sags against Kuroo’s body as soon as he's out of sight. “Figures they would so something like that.” He sighs._

_“Are you scared?” Kuroo says pulling him closer. “We can leave whenever you want now.”_

_“I know Tet-“_

_“Uncle? Kei?” a small voice says from the corridor._

_And Kei meets his nieces._

_._

_._

The first anchor turned out to be a pocket watch at the bottom of a swamp, which was not pleasant at all. The whole thing was supposed to be a day trip, but after Akaashi nearly froze while flying in, and the fact that a carriage ride back to Nekoma would not only take some time, but also make the trip to the other anchor twice as long it just didn’t seem worth it.

And so, here they are, having managed to secure a room with twin beds in a small, relatively decent roadside inn. The pocket watch burns in Koutarou’s pocket. He’s not too adept at casting, whether it be curses or not, having always preferred the more physical application of his power, but the metal feels chilly to the touch and it makes chills travel up his fingers every time he touches it.

There was no trace of anyone in the watch’s vicinity, so the person it was meant for either escaped the curse at some point… or they might’ve been at the bottom of the swamp, he doesn’t want to dwell on that.

Instead, he tries to focus on his food, because focusing on Akaashi doesn’t seem like a very good idea either. 

People usually say that wind suits Koutarou because his emotions run away with him easly. He’s fickle, boisterous most of the time, then switching to subdued and insecure at the drop of a hat. He gets attached to others easily, always willing and happy to get to know new things.

But this is fast, even for Koutarou.

Maybe it’s the day they’ve had. 

He has bled for, carried, and seen Akaashi half-naked -while at the swamp- in the past twelve hours, and then Koutarou did hit his head when the runes threw them into the wall.

Yes, that must be it. There is no other reason why Akaashi being a mess eater should be this adorable. “Do I have food on my face Bokuto-san?” he pauses eating to ask.

As a matter of fact, he does. Koutarou points at his cheek. “Just… over here.”

The dark-haired man primly lifts a napkin to wipe the offending speck of soup. “Thank you Bokuto-san.” He says. “Do you dislike the food? You have barely eaten?”

Koutarou looks down at his plate, for the first time noticing that he has indeed barely had a bite. “Uh- no, no it’s-“ He shoves a morsel into his mouth, very nearly burning himself. “Tasty, really tasty- Is yours tasty too Akaashi?” he asks, flushing.

“It is good,” Akaashi answers, head craning to the side, the same way it did this morning. “But I think after all the cold today I would find anything liquid and warm better than ambrosia.”

Koutarou laughs. “You should have told me you were that sensitive to the cold. I thought I was going to have to find a hot spring.”

“That was my fault, I had never uh- flown before. I overestimated myself.” He looks down, a light dusting of pink rising to his milky white cheeks. “I apologize, I seem to be making trouble for you quite often Bokuto-san.

 _Perfect._ Something dark and protective whispers in the back of Koutarou’s head. Why is this man so perfect? Why does Koutarou care? “Nah, you saved me from that eel, we’re even.”

Akaashi chuckles. “It wasn’t venomous, trust me.” He has a nice laugh, high and airy. “Bokuto-san can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Koutarou says around his mouthful. “Uh, sorry.” He says. “That was rude.”

“Don’t worry,” Akaashi says. “Why is your hair like that?” He asks, "is it dye? it looks quite bright."

Koutarou is used to people asking about his hair. “Well, I do the horns because I like them.” He laughs. “But if you mean the color, like five years ago when we were on our Tour, Kuroo and I kinda got in this fight in Jhozenji.” He says. “We ended up trying to solve it with a contest, and there was this one guy, how should we have known he was that fast? Anyway, we lost and this was the penalty. Kuroo got away free because Kenma tried to deflect the curse and it hit him instead.”

“Well, that explains why his hair was blond when I met him,” Akaashi mutters, quietly stirring his noodles. “But why try to deflect it? It is innocuous, and it even suits you.”

It’s straight praise, precisely because he’s sure Akaashi is not doing it to flatter him, just stating a fact. Koutarou feels his cheeks grow warmer. “Oh, he wasn’t there when they told us the penalty.” Koutarou clarifies. “He got there later and thought it was something serious. I like it, so I never asked Kenma how to reverse it.”

“It works well with your eyes.” Akaashi’s eyes are the color of the sea when there’s an incoming storm and they are trained on Koutarou’s face. “It probably looks even better down.”

It knocks the breath out of him, which really should not be possible, Koutarou grips his chopsticks and hopes the other doesn’t notice the effect he has on him.

Definitely too fast. 

“U-uh can I ask you a question too?” he asks, staring very pointedly at the back of Akaashi’s chair.

“Depends on what it is.” Akaashi looks open and relaxed, much more comfortable than he did when he met them in front of the cabin in the morning.

Koutarou scrambles for something, he only wanted to defuse the suddenly loaded ambiance. “What do you owe Kenma?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and apparently the wrong one, because Akaashi’s demeanor changes immediately, his face turns into a pale, impassive mask.

“I prefer not to talk about it.” He says quickly, turning his attention back to the food.

Koutarou recoils internally. “Alright, don’t worry.”

But the rest of the meal is silent.

.

.

It’s late when he arrives at Karasuno.

The town isn’t dark, however, it is lively and filled with lanterns and vendors. There seems to be some sort of festival going on and it’s still warm enough down here to justify such a thing.

Kenma gets off of the train, very thankful that there is a direct line from Nekoma or his plan of his would be impossible to pull off by himself. 

If it’s even a plan at all, he isn’t usually one for rash decisions, and this definitely counts. He doesn’t even know if the person he is looking for still lives here, the last time he spoke to Shouyo he did, but that was more than half a year ago, he has been _that_ busy trying to find a solution to what happened to Kuroo.

He isn’t even sure what he is looking for here either. He has his suspicions about Tsukishima but if Shouyo confirms them then he is unsure of what step he will take after. Still, his feet haven’t forgotten the town, they lead him to the bakery that the ginger’s family runs without ever hesitating.

It's a little building with a cheerful air about it, the carvings in the wood are of flowers and birds, and it has ample windows that usually show the customers eating inside. Right now lights inside are off, except for a faint glow coming from the kitchen, and the door is closed. 

Kenma lifts his hand to the handle and it turns without resistance, so he slips inside. “Sorry, we’re clo-“ someone says, peering out from the kitchen. “Kenma!” Shouyo exclaims, and before Kenma can blink the air mage is right in front of him, a familiar grin on his face, arms pulling him into a hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I have been busy.” He answers, he never told Shouyou about Kuroo, the whole thing must remain secret, lest they all end up in jail or something worse. “But I wanted to talk to you, it's important.”

“Well, I’m free!” Shouyou says, and Kenma can’t help but zero in on the smudge of flour on his cheek. “Come in the kitchen, I’ll make you some chocolate, it’s a festival night and there’s a big crowd out.” His voice soars, excited, and Kenma realizes how much he missed visiting the ginger.

He snickers. “Wouldn’t you like it better if we went out?” he asks, even as he lets the ginger tug him to the homey kitchen by his sleeve.

“Meh, I've been out all week.” Shouyu grins. “And I never get to see you, you look tired. Are you alright?”

“Tired is all.” Kenma answers, settling on his usual chair by the fire. “A lot of things have happened.”

The ginger laughs. “Well I would figure, things are moving here too, last week Kageyama-“ he pauses, eyes roving over Kenma’s face. “No wait, what did you need to talk about, we can gossip later.”

“Actually.” He says, as Shouyou goes to fill the jar with milk. “It’s about Tsukishima.”

Shouyou turns around, brown eyes wide and guilty, milk spilling liberally over the counter. “What about Tsukishima?”

.

.

Keiji startles awake quietly.

He is used to being up at first light, so it isn’t surprising. But it doesn’t seen to be the case for his roommate.

After nearly freezing to death and having to wear the man’s cloak and then being too embarrassed to talk about… well, about _that_. Keiji spent most of the time after they came up here silently reading a book he bought at the town, while the other chattered away, a ball of restless energy in his own right.

He is quiet right now though, lying on his back, limbs spread, taking up all the space in the small bed across the room. The silver hair has fallen out of its style and Keiji finds that he was right. Bokuto looks younger, softer with his hair down, too young and too soft for his muscular build, even.

Something inside him wants to-

Keiji sighs, and slips out of bed 

and down the hall to the bath.

After he has cleaned up he wakes Bokuto up, letting him know he will be downstairs having breakfast and to join him when possible. By the time the man arrives Keiji is almost done with his breakfast, but Bokuto eats fast too. “So, where to?” he asks, brushing crumbs off his face when he is done.

“It’s to the west. “Keiji explains, shivering in his robe. “I think if we go back the way we came from there was a fork in the road, we are lucky that both anchors are around this area.”

“Well, there must be a carriage for rent somewhere close by.” Bokuto hums. “Hey, Akaashi?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think we have a chance?” His voice is low, with a tiny tinge of regret. “Of bringing Kuroo back, I mean.”

Keiji sighs. “ do not know enough about portals to be able to tell either way Bokuto-san.” The man’s shoulders slump and his gaze drifts to the floor. “We can only do our best.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Bokuto mutters. 

And they set off to look for the other anchor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for your kind comments and Kudos, you're all sweet.  
> I love to hear what you think (who might be Tsukki's wife I wonder?)  
> No Kuroo in this one :( I know, but there will be plenty of him in later chapters.
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	5. Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go right, things go wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, the plot is finally starting to move forward, and we find out a few important things o this chapter.  
> And there's more Kuroo, finally.  
> Thanks to everyone who has commented and left Kudos, you're all very sweet.

The throbbing headache he has when he wakes up is not surprising in the least.

If they manage to get Kuroo back he’s going to be pissed that they drank most of his good liquor.

Good. Kei thinks vengefully as he unsticks himself from the leather couch. Kuroo had the gall to complain about Karasuno in the summer, but Nekoma is just as hot, even though the summer is about to end. 

Kuroo's apartment is silent, it doesn’t seem like Kenma has been back. Kei can’t resist the impulse then, he often only peeks at the mark when he washes himself but lately, as autumn approaches, he does it more often.

It has to happen soon.

He peels off the glove on his left hand, hoping that this vow mark, like the mess of curving lines on his right, has faded into a ridge of pale scar tissue. 

It hasn’t.

It lies there in faint brown over Kei’s skin, three vertical lines. The first two connected by to diagonal lines, born in the middle of the first vertical line angling away from each other until they reach the ends of the second one, forming a triangle.

The second and the third are connected by a single horizontal line that is born halfway through their length.

At least it’s fainter.

He sighs and heads off to the inn he’s staying at. Kenma will show up at some point and Kei needs to get some food and a bath.

He feels dirty.

.

.

_For the first time in half a year, Kei sees his childhood home._

_The carriage makes the smooth ride up the small hill where the estate sits quickly. , Yamaguchi, as always warns them when they are about to cross the wards so that Kei is prepared for the wards, for the usual ones that is, the ones that make the place behind his left eye throb. Now whatever his parents have done to them is like taking a cauldron to the back of the head, he feels nausea rise up his throat and as he bends over, little drops of blood fall on the floor._

_Kuroo is there._

_He always is. One of his strong hands rubs over Kei’s back, soothing. He must have felt the wards, though probably with about a tenth of the strength Kei did. “Why do they even need wards like these?” his lover grumbles, holding a napkin out to Kei's hunched form._

_“I’m not sure.” He answers, still dizzy from the pain. “Every year it’s worse.”_

_“Kei…”_

_“I know.” He sighs. “I didn’t want to come either but my mom-“ After a year of her not wanting to even talk to Kei she sent him a letter, a cold, stilted letter, but still she asked him to come for some ball of some sort._

_And he required his and Kuroo’s presence so Kei couldn’t ignore it. If it turned out to be something stupid to try and marry him off -his father had gone so far as to suggest finding a nice girl with_ leanings _like his so that she would let him see Kuroo-, he is ready to burn that bridge, but he can’t bring himself to do it if they don’t provoke them first._

_Kuroo looks down, grimacing. “I get it, don’t worry.” He smiles. “Besides I get to play with your nieces, while you’re stuck up here at night. So I’m getting a good deal out of it.”_

_The girls love him. Which isn’t out of the ordinary, Kuroo has a way of sneaking into people’s hearts. It is a shame that Kei’s parents are so resistant to it though._

_They reach the steps on the main house, the place where he and Kuroo met. It’s even remarkably similar right now, with the summer sun shining brightly overhead. Kuroo slips out of the carriage, a wide grin on his face, that makes his eyes close up. He is wearing a sleeveless tunic, just like that day, only it’s red this time._

_He offers Kei his hand, even though he doesn’t need help getting it down._

_Kei takes it and grins back._

_And as the carriage leaves, one of the crows on the house’s eaves goes flying._

.

.

It is hard not to be suspicious.

Maybe it’s the fact that yesterday he and a half-naked Bokuto waded through a swamp and narrowly evaded a large amount of creatures which, while not venomous, did have the capacity to take a chunk off their legs if they felt attacked.

Maybe it is because the governess, in impeccable black robes, is smiling widely. “Please do come in,” she says. “I am Miyuki, the house’s governess. The Master and Mistress are away but I can answer any questions you might have.”

The town the le line led the to is a wealthy one, full of merchants, not that far from Nekoma. And this house is typical of such a place -Keiji has been in many such houses, so he knows- an elegant townhouse with walls caked with colorful stucco and gleaming wooden accents. Even outside, in the street, it has an air that the other houses lack.

Like it’s _breathing_.

Keiji stares at the older woman for a second. He _knows_ her, somehow, though the amount of people he has met that would be close to her age is small.

He and Bokuto head inside, the inside of the house is just as elegantly and ostentatiously decorated as the front. The woman leads them to a pretty parlor where all the cherrywood furniture matches, even down to t’s upholstery. “I will bring you some tea, you two said you wanted to talk about this house’s history, right?”

The way she smiles, the dimples of her wrinkled cheeks, and the shape of her eyebrows. Keiji _knows_ her. He glances at Bokuto by his side, the air mage doesn’t seem to detect anything amiss. “Yes, you’re so nice. Miyuki-san.” He bellows as he plops down on a large couch.

She bows a little and then disappears into the corridor. “Bokuto-san. Something is wrong.” He says, fast and low. “She let us in so easily, and in this kind of house.”

“Oh, ‘Kaashi.” One of Bokuto’s hands comes to rub at his shoulder and Keiji can’t correct him on the nickname. “I think she’s being nice. Have you felt something of the curse? Maybe we got the wrong house.”

Keiji's lips press into a tight line. “No, it’s definitely here, but I can’t tell where without being connected to the soil.” His boots scrape uselessly against the shiny wooden boards that make up the floor. “My best guess is that there is a basement.” He meets Bokuto’s gaze. “And-“ It’s not that he doesn’t trust Bokuto, really but saying he thinks he knows the woman would prompt questions as to where he knows her from and seeing as the past few years of his life are the very topic he doesn’t want to bring up.

“Here we are.” She says, walking in with a tray suddenly and silently. Keiji sneaks a glance at her feet, which are adorned with low heeled slip-ons. The woman bends to set the tray down in front of them, face open and welcoming. “What were you interested in?”

“Bokuto reaches forward to snatch the teacup from the table, grinning at her. “We were wondering if-“

“We are looking for cursed artifacts.” Keiji cuts him off. “For research.” He adds.

“Oh, well.” She smiles behind her own cup. “The master’s estate is full of old artifacts, though I’m afraid I can't magic so I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“And you could show them to us?” Bokuto asks, bringing a cookie to his mouth. “I mean we are in a rush here.”

The woman frowns slightly. “I could show you.” She says. “The Master has no issues with people visiting to look at his collection, but if you wanted to take anything, you would have to wait for him to be back tonight.”

They turn to look at each other at the same time, and Keiji understands what Bokuto is saying. If they find anything they have plenty of money to leave to replace it, but they will be leaving before lunchtime. 

“Yes, thank you.” Keiji says, trying to look as normal as possible, still, keenly aware of an uneasy pit opening in his stomach.

When they are done with the tea, the governess guides them, down to a basement. It can’t be any more different than the cellar in the house Kuroo is trapped in. everything is covered in wood and accents. Whoever the master is, he did not cut back on spending, even for the basement.

The woman starts to the side b the entrance and allows them to look around the well-lit room. 

And Keiji regrets not bringing Tsukishima now, very much. There have to be at least ten cursed artifacts here, and it’s hard to tell which one is tied to the ley line, what’s worse, it might look fairly odd if he bends to reach between the floorboards to try and tell. He shoots Bokuto a panicked look.

The silver-haired man shoots one back. He walks around the room, eyes wandering 

until he’s back beside Keiji.

And promptly trips, bringing down several baubles with him. 

It’s no coincidence, and Keiji wants to kiss him for it. “Bokuto-san, be careful.” He chides and then looks back at the woman, remorse painted on his face. “I am so sorry, I think nothing’s broken.” He bends down happy that there’s a crack between the floorboards big enough for his pinky finger.

“I’m so sorry Miyuki-san.” he hears Bokuto say as he scrambles for the fallen objects. “We can pay for any damage don’t worry.”

_There._

Keiji grabs two small wooden pieces and smiles. “Everything seems to be good, though.” He calls in her direction. “On the next cabinet.” He whispers at Bokuto. “Thick, made of bronze.”

The older man shifts that way as casually as he can, there is indeed a small but detailed figurine of a dancing girl on it. Bokuto steps forward.

And there’s a laugh, a little delighted snicker from the door. 

Keiji _knows_ her.

“Bokuto-san don’t touch it!” He exclaims, just as Bokuto’s fingertips would have come in contact with the thing. 

By the entrance. “The woman’s eyebrows rise, but she can't hide the way her knuckles go white clutching the doorjamb. “Is something wrong?” she says, stepping forward. “I assure you the master wouldn’t keep anything too dangerous here.”

Keiji sighs. “Yuki, why are you here.” He asks

“I do not know what you are talking about.” She answers. "My name is Miyuki."

But then her face falls and Keiji can see it, that familiar face, but somehow thirty years older than it ought to be. “You’re the one that’s cursed, right?” He asks.

“Why would I be cursed, sir?” she asks, haughty now, yes, it definitely is her. 

“Come over here, then if you aren’t,” Keiji says. And to her credit, she does take a step forward then another, before something shoves her back to her previous place by the door. “Was it your owner?”

The woman shakes her head. “His wife. It wasn’t my fault.” She says, voice small. “She didn’t like that he bought me, even if I was just supposed to help with the land.” Keiji takes a deep breath. “And after he-She cursed me, the house feeds off me I don’t even know how, I can’t leave… And for the past year.. it gets worse every day.”

“And it’s supposed to shift to whoever touches that thing?” Keiji asks.

She nods, shame veiling her face.

“Wait what?!” Bokuto jumps back, almost knocking a candle holder to the floor. “Who is she? How do you know her?”

“From… before, Bokuto-san.” Keiji says, shooting a meaningful look at the air mage. Before he turns back to her. “Look we’re here to break the curse.” He says. “But we have to take the anchor with us and destroy it somewhere else, it’s a long story but-“

“It’s tied to a line isn’t it?” she laughs bitterly. “She never intended t let me leave.”

“Yes,” Keiji says. “I don’t know what will happen when-“

“I don’t care.” The woman says. “Take anything you want, if the house falls on my head at least I won’t be trapped here anymore.” And then he storms up the stairs, still not making a sound In those god awful heels she’s wearing.

Keiji feels sorry for her, he does. This or something worse may well have ended up being his fate if he had not run into Kozume at one of the southern ports at the start of this year. Still, she was never one to accept pity or comfort, so he turns to Bokuto. “There’s an old pelt back there.” He points at the corner of the room. “Let’s use it to wrap the figurine up.”

“Akaashi what is-“

“I will tell you after-“ he takes a deep breath. “After we break the curses.”

Bokuto gives him a long, curious, pitying look. He must’ve put enough pieces together by now.

“Aye.”

.

.

_There was a time when Tsukishima Kazuma liked Tetsuro._

_Of course, it was because he thought Tetsuro was inspiring his son to refine his natural talent, and though that was true, half the trips he and Kei took resulted in anything bu learning. And that was alright with both of them._

_Tetsuro still remembers very clearly the day he met the man, Kei made him button his robe all the way up and slick his hair back -which held for approximately ninety-five percent of the meeting- and he seemed amenable, even a little excited to see his son doing something that did not involve having his nose buried in a book._

_It’s the complete opposite right now._

_After leaving Kei in his mother’s parlor, he decided to visit his Akiteru with the small gifts he and Kei picked up for the man and his daughters in the past six months. With a ball being held tomorrow at the estate, Tetsuro isn’t sure just when Kei is going to be able to come._

_And besides, the girls love him._

_But then, as he was readying a horse, Kazuma cornered in the stables, and Tetsuro has to lie and say he was going to the town square, which culminated with the older man insisting on being the one to take him down in his carriage._

_And so here they are. Kei's father is as tall and his son, his shoulders broad -from what Tetsuro has heard he was quite the swordsman before he married into the Tsukishima family-. He has a full beard that gives his face a severe air and he is wearing a pale gold robe with bronze accents._

_He may not be a Tsukishima by blood but he sure looks the part._

_Tetsuro knows this isn’t going to be something friendly. And as soon as they are out of the estate’s wards, the man takes a deep breath. “Thank you for bringing my son home at last.” He says lowly. Tetsuro braces himself for whatever threat is to come. “I have grown tired of accommodating you two, however, so what do you want? Money or whatever else, name your price.”_

_And there it is, just like he thought. This whole invitation thing couldn’t be true. “Nothing.” He says simply. “There’s nothing in your filthy fortune that would convince me to leave Kei.” He spits disdainfully._

_“I see. It is a shame how smart my son is, killing you would be an easy alternative if he weren’t.” The man says, stroking his beard. “Did you two feel our new wards?” he asks._

_Tetsuro’s eyes widen just a smidgen. “Mostly him.” He answers, hands curling into fists at his sides. “A bit sadistic, isn’t it? To have wards that make the residents of a house puked when they cross them.”_

_“That only happens the first time.” Kazuma smiles. “Which is the last time too, Kei won’t be leaving the estate at any point soon, I fear. And if I will it so, you won’t be going in. How do you think your aberration of a relationship will hold up then?”_

_“We’re not shallow enough to be swayed by that,” Tetsuro growls, feeling his hands begin to heat. “If your goddamned walls won’t let him out I will find a way to tear them down.”_

_“Really? Even if I tie him to the house?” The man says, calm as ever. “Please be practical, our family needs heirs.” He sighs. “If my wife could still have children, Kei would have suffered the same fate his brother did a log time ago. But then, you know so much more about that than me. Would you care to look out of the window, Kuroo-san?”_

_Feeling a weight settle on the pit of his stomach, Tetsuro does. They are right in front of the detour on the outskirts of the town that branches off to Akiteru’s house. He whips around. “You bastard-“ he growls._

_“I'm afraid I am not. Unlike you.” The man laughs, disdain clear on his face. “But then, if Kei is unavailable we would have to seek Akiteru out again, of course, there would be no need for the baggage he has collected along the way.”_

_“They’re your grandchildren.” Tetsuro grits out, a wave of anger washes over him. “One of them is an air mage, you can’t-“_

_“I don’t want to,” Kazuma says, voice even, looking straight forward. “But if I have to I will, and I wonder what Kei would think of you if you were selfish enough to ignore this.”_

_“You’re sick. Akiteru wouldn’t-“ Tetsuro pauses, no, he wouldn’t, but if the children, or Saeko got thrown into it…_

_Kazuma smiles, barely visible under his beard. “I could have it done any minute, did you think I didn’t monitor them? I know who goes in and out of that damn hovel and when, always have.” He lays a hand on Tetsuro’s shoulder. “What is it going to be then?”_

_Tetsuro closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He doesn’t doubt for a second that what the man is saying is true. He found the way the wards affected Kei suspicious in the first place and now it makes perfect sense. “What do you want?”_

_“I want you to tell him you are leaving him.” The man says. “And to never contact my son again.” Those aren’t hard terms to adhere to, initially, and then, he and Kei would find a way to shake off his parents eventually. “I want you to vow it.”_

_Tetsuro’s blood runs cold._

.

.

He stares at the faded lines on the underside of his left arm.

It wasn’t the kind of vow that could be dissolved without both parties agreed to or one of them dying. Tetsuro is pretty sure that that’s the case for him, and the reason he can talk to Tsukishima now in the first place.

Truly, there were ways to get around the vow, but then, they involved him stepping aside and letting someone else take over, which was dangerous in its own way, if not for Kei, for Akiteru and his children.

Not that it matters now, Kazuma got what he wanted, after all. Kei has admitted as much to him, and Tetsuro doesn’t need to look at the place where the vow is etched -as marriage vows traditionally are- on the back of his left hand- to know it. He does pity the poor woman that got dragged into this, it must be horrible to be married to someone who has absolutely no interest in her, and knowing her in-laws view her as little more than a broodmare.

He sighs.

This will probably be over soon.

Tetsuro is having a more corporeal day than he has in a long time, and he’s enjoying not phasing through the mattress under his back. It’s already nearing the end of the afternoon when he feels someone take a hesitant step on the first step of the porch. 

He knows who it is, of course, even without magic, even without a body, he would always know Kei.

Part of him wants to go, drink in as much of the other as he can. Bu then, what good would that do? And he still is relatively mad about the blond being willing to risk himself the way he is.

Tsukishima doesn’t seem as keen on leaving him alone, however. He goes down to the cellar, then he walks around the first floor for a while before he climbs the stairs and heads directly for the room where Tetsuro is, the same one they first saw each other again in, two days ago.

The door creaks open, and Tsukishima’s eyes still widen when he sees Tetsuro on the bed. “I thought we were meeting here.” He says.

Tetsuro shrugs. “I haven't seen anyone all day.” He says, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Akaashi sent a message saying they're on their way back with the anchors. “Tsukishima takes a step closer. “I thought maybe Kenma would be here already.”

“Not the case, I guess.” Tetsuro answers, gaze drifting to the opposite wall where late afternoon sunlight is streaming in. “Tsukki, please don’t do this.” He says it languidly, without heat, a last-ditch attempt though he knows the blond has no intention of backing down. “I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt because of me again.”

“You do have a lot of experience with that,” Tsukishima says, biting as ever. He walks over to sit on the far corner of the bed, eyes downcast. “But Kozume is the one paying me, not you, so you are going to have to bear with it.”

Tetsuro sighs, guilt and concern gnawing at his chest. “Why?” he asks, refusing to take in Tsukishima’s form fully, eyes stubbornly stuck to the window. “Why are you even doing these jobs? You don’t need the money.”

Tsukishima draws his knees up to his chest. “I do- don’t think you’re entitled to any details about my life.” The bitterness that drips from his words is all too familiar. “You are the one who walked out on me, I don't owe you any explanations.”

If he could cry, he probably would be. Tetsuro aches to tell him everything. But what purpose would that serve? He might be as good as dead and Tsukishima is married, even if he does tell the blond that he was blackmailed into a vow and forced to do what he did, what would be the point? Hurting the other once more before one or both of them faces the abyss? “I wish things had been different.” He says, instead.

And it should have been obvious that particular phrase wouldn't go down well, there’s a sharp, angry intake of breath and Tsukishima stands, ripping his glasses from his face. “They would have, if you wanted. But I guess I should be thankful, I was willing to throw everything away for you.” Tetsuro can’t help but meet those resentful golden eyes then. “Now wouldn’t that have been a terrible mistake, Kuroo-san?”

It almost breaks his resolve, almost. “Right.” He says, suddenly wanting to be able to slip through the floor like he usually can. “At least you have your wife now.”

The blond glares at him for a second. “I’ll be on the porch.” He says, and storms off.

.

.

_The place on his arm where his vow to Tsukishima’s father is etched burns, almost hard enough to make him dizzy._

_It makes Tetsuro wince every time he moves the arm. Behind him, he can feel the two guards following him at a reasonable distance. Added reassurance, Tsukishima’s father said, that Tetsuro won’t do anything stupid._

_And he won’t, not tonight, but he is not going to stop trying. He will find a way to get Kei and his brother to safety, somehow and then, and then…_

_The door to Kei's room is half-open. Tetsuro sighs and steels himself. He pushes the door open, avoiding his lover's gaze when he notices that it’s Tetsuro at the door. “I thought you were staying at Aki-nii’s.”_

_“I’m afraid not.” He sighs, walking towards the windowsill where the blond is sitting, surrounded by heavy velvet curtains._

_“Tetsu, is something wrong?” Tsukishima stands up, concern filling his eyes. “Did my parents do anything?”_

_Tetsuro grinds his teeth, this too, is part of the vow “No, not at all." He says. “There isn’t an easy way to say this Kei, so I’m just going to come out and say it.” He has to close his eyes for a second, the pained look on Kei's face is too much. “I'm leaving you.”_

_“What?” Kei whispers, incredulous._

_He swallows around the not that has formed at his throat. “I think you deserve better. And I'm done with this.” he gestures around them. "It’s not working, I’m sorry"_

_“I know this isn’t you,” Kei whispers, hands wrapping around his wrists. “I know they're making you. I know you.” But his eyes are filling with tears, his voice with desperation. Tetsuro knows he only needs one more push. “Tetsu…” he pleads._

_“There are too many things I can’t give you.” He says, looking at the ground. “That you can’t give me. This has nothing to do with your parents. It’s high time we faced reality.”_

_Kei catches the meaning, the veiled statement behind the words, his hands let go of Tetsuro's, and his face twists until tears are pouring from his eyes. And how Tetsuro wants to hug him, to tell him its all a lie. That all he wants is him and anything Kei can't give him is not worth having anyway._

_Pain flares up his arm, and it takes everything he has to turn around so Kei won’t see it in his face._

_“Go.” There’s that beloved voice, devastated, full of anger. “Go, I don’t want to see you.” Kei spits. “If you're so serious go and don’t come back.”_

_Kei is expecting him to turn back, to fly into his arms in a flurry of apologies. He knows to an extent that this isn’t what he wants to do, not fully. But he doesn’t know about the vow._

_And Tetsuro, Tetsuro can’t do this, can’t leave him. He has loved Kei for four years and he isn’t naïve enough to think he will ever stop. He can’t leave him, but he has to._

_So, he forces his head to remain firmly turned to the front, eyes filling with tears as he walks to the door leaving his heart behind._

_He doesn’t look back._

_Vow or not, he can’t look back._

.

.

It’s the scenario of Tetsuro’s worst nightmare. 

The soot of the basement suddenly seems to malicious to him, even the vortex, he has never hated something with such a passion.

Akaashi and Bokuto step forward, each placing one of the anchors over the line it’s tied to. “I can handle the clock,” Akaashi says. “It will be difficult for you to undo both at the same time, right?” he asks Tsukishima.

The blond stands on the right side of the vortex, stalwart, and taciturn, he lifts his dark-rimmed eyes to Akaashi’s face. “How will you get out, though?” he asks. “Will the spell wok just as well on three of us?”

Kenma, sitting on the steps, nods. “I made him an extra, remember, all you need to activate it is crumple the piece of paper.”

They are all treating this with such nonchalance, Bokuto is _humming_ where he is leaning against the wall. He notices Tetsuro’s gaze, and all his best friend does is grin at him. Like they aren’t quite literally standing on a time bomb. “Does that mean it’s time for me to take Kenma somewhere safe?” he asks.

Akaashi and Tsukishima exchange a look, somehow attuned with each other, even after only having become acquainted yesterday. “Please do, Bokuto-san.”

And strangely, Bokuto hesitates, even as he starts following Kenma up the rickety stairs. When he’s halfway up, he turns his head around. “Take care kaashi.” He says, earnest face an open display of worry. 

And Tetsuro knows that look. 

_Oh._

Another thing he might just irreparably fuck up.

“So…” he starts. “Should I go in now?” The best place for him to be in while the curses get broken is -according to Tsukishima and Kenma- inside the portal. They think his body might be somewhere between here and some other place. And maybe, if he is there when the curses are reversed he might be able to recover it.

Tsukishima frowns at him. “Whenever you’re ready.” He kneels, hands cupping the small bronze figurine that Bokuto and Akaashi brought back, careful not to touch it with his bare skin.

For a second he wants to plead again, he considers tackling Tsukishima to the ground, doing _something_ but then he is not even corporeal enough for that. So he walks into the maw of the vortex. It feels no different than all the other times he has tried this.

Tetsuro is about to step in further when his emotions finally win, there are so many things he can’t bring himself to say, but this, _this_ is vague and true enough. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, so low that Tsukishima probably can’t hear it anyway. “I love you.”

And then he steps further.

He can still hear them, though faintly, around him, the velvet soft darkness of the useless portal shimmers and Tetsuro tries to prepare himself. It probably won’t hurt, nothing does anymore.

“Done.” He hears Tsukishima says, voice faraway. So far, nothing is different inside the portal.

“Me too.” Akaashi echoes. “Shall I hold it?”

“Yes,” Tsukishima says, voice strained. “Don’t let go, I’ll finish unraveling this here and work up to where you are.”

“It is amazing that you can see magic like this, what does it look like?.” Akaashi says. “We might have taken weeks or months otherwise.”

“Like ribbons, I would say, at least curses do…” Tsukishima drifts off. “There, that’s the last of mine, it’s untied from the line, now…” 

And Tetsuro can feel it instantly, it hits him with such force that he is left dizzy. The muggy air of the basement, the hard floor under his feet. He can smell soot and earth and rotting wood. He clenches his fists and feels very real fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms until they break the skin.

“There is something…” Tsukishima’s voice again, Tetsuro knows that he shouldn't rush back before the whole thing is completed though. “Akaashi can you check again? It feels like there is some residue.”

“No, I don’t feel anything,” Akaashi says.

Tsukishima hums. “Brace yourself.” He says, and then, with a grunt, he _tugs_. Tetsuro can’t see him doing it, but that’s how it feels, like he has just tugged to a cord connected to his spine, pulling him out, _out, o_ ut. “Akaashi get out of here!” He hears the blond scream as the light comes closer. “Now!”

As Tetsuro -now corporeal- is spat out of the vortex, he doesn’t register whether Akaashi has left or not. He just feels dread fill his whole body, as the first thing he sees, the first thing he hears with his actual eyes and ears outside the vortex, are the image of Tsukishima being violently thrown into the basement wall and the sickening crunch that follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm a bit evil.  
> I would love to know what you all thought of this! It always makes my day!
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worry is a very uncomfortable thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here we are! Finally delving deep into some of the things y'all have been asking about, this was an extremely fun chapter to write (though I will admit that the Bokuaka ran away with me.)  
> Thanks so much to all of you supporting this fic, you're all too sweet.  
> Hope you like it

Objectively it’s not that much blood.

But it won't stop running down the side of Tsukishima’s head or out of his nose, and the blond won’t wake up. Tetsuro pays no attention to the portal as he scoops the other in his harms, he doesn’t even relish in finally being able to carry someone after almost a year. Not right now.

His heart seizes up in his chest and for a second he feels like he is about to empty the contents of his stomach on the floor.

Still, his body seems to be in much the same state it was in a year go, Tetsuro can only be grateful. He carries the unconscious form of Tsukishima Kei up the ladder and through the kitchen, through the hall and out to the porch. And there, as he rushes down the steps, hits a wall.

He has a body, he can feel the steady thrum of his magic, deep inside him, a small, pulsing hearth. But he can’t get the wall to budge, it doesn’t bring him back to the bowels of the house, in front of the portal like it used to, but he can’t breach it. Tetsuro sighs, and then realization dawns on him.

Maybe it isn’t him.

He carefully sets the blond down on the steps hoping once Tetsuro isn’t touching him, he will slip through. 

The blond’s unconscious body slumps forward and remains there. All his upper body leaning into what looks like no more than air.

Tetsuro reaches out a hand, but -as expected- it meets solid air, he sighs and looks up, it’s getting dark, and the blond needs help. For the first time in a year, he says a small prayer to gods he barely knows anything about and lifts a hand towards the late afternoon sky.

The blast of fire paints it red.

.

.

_It’s sunny and it has no right to be._

_It’s sunny and the crows are standing on the frames of his windows, three on each one, their beady, dark eyes looking at Kei as if they pity him._

_It’s sunny and Tetsuro is still gone._

_Kei pushes himself into a sitting position with a groan, his eyes feel swollen and his mouth tastes like cotton and wine that has been left out for too long._

_He has no idea how he got back to his room. He has no idea how he got back in the house. All he remembers is the bonfire, the smoke getting in his eyes, his mother asking him to please try and not make it look like he’s here unwillingly. A servant holding a pitcher of wine, and Tadashi trying to get Kei not to drink. And then… and then…_

_There are soft words in his ear, his mother’s voice, loving and tearful._

_“Please Kei.” She says, as she lets him lean on her all the way up to his room, taking a lot more of his weight than Kei ever thought her capable of. “Please, let me help you, say you will listen.” Her golden eyes are determined as she lays him on his bed, and her voice, the voice that sang him to sleep as a child lulls him once more. “Promise me, I know you don’t believe in me now.” And the tear that slips down her face is no act. “But I want the best of you, I want you here and happy. Promise me you will listen to me, let me lead you there.”_

_And his own voice breaks in two syllables, in one name. His drunken sobs fill the room._

_“He is gone now darling, he is gone.” She strokes his hair. “I just want you to be happy, promise me-“ Golden light fills the room, the familiar threads and ribbons of it surround them. “Vow to me.”_

_The sound of the door opening startles him out of the recollection, and as his mother enters the room, followed by Yamaguchi, who carries a large breakfast tray, Kei feels the first of many searing licks of pain on his right hand._

_He looks down to see the rune etched on his skin, curling around itself in sinuous, intricate lines. He knows just what it is. At his frown, his mother’s brilliant smile falls. “What did you do mother?” he snarls. “What did you do?”_

_Her lips press together tightly and it’s like looking at his own face for a second. “What I had to, darling.” She says, gesturing for Yamaguchi to lay the tray in front of Kei. “Now eat, I have someone to introduce you to.”_

_Kei tries to spit that he won’t meet anyone, that he won’t stay in this place for a second more, that he knows she and his father probably did something to Kuroo to make him leave. But pain shoots up his arm, a stroke of lightning that makes his vision go white for a second._

_His mother leaves the room in a flurry of perfume and flared skirts and Kei hangs his head over the side of the bed and vomits._

_._

_._

It’s sunny again outside.

The crows aren't here this time, the air doesn’t smell like Karasuno either and the window he is looking through is far too small, framed in old-looking wood.

Kei stirs, turning on his side, arms reaching out to where he can feel someone else in the room with him, someone that feels like ash, like life, like that one time he saw lava up close in some volcano on the far south of the country with-

He bolts upward and the world spins around him.

Still, he whips his head around frantically, reaching beside the plow for his glasses and shoving them on, a habit more than anything. And there he is, there _he_ is, Kuroo is fully solid, in a simple beige tunic and brown pants, leaning forward on a stool, eyes shining with relief.

And Kei can _feel_ him.

Kei can feel _him._

Everything comes back to him, the tangled ley line, being unable to undo the clock’s second curse, -it was fine work that, layered just under the first one with such finesse that even to Kei it was not visible- screaming at Akaashi to get away before doing his best to pull n the presence he felt inside the portal. And then feeling like he had just been punched by a giant fist. 

“Kei, you’re awake.” Kuroo bellows and Kei has to cover his ears, his head pounds and then there’s the familiar sensation of blood sliding over his lips. 

“I’m sorry.” The man whispers just as the door bursts open and in come both Bokuto and Akaashi. Even Bokuto’s footsteps are too loud. 

“Please keep it down Bokuto-san.” Akaashi sighs, he cups Kei’s face with his soft palms and the headache immediately goes down to a simmer. “He hit his head hard.” He says, worry painting his face. “I wish we could get him a proper doctor, this is out of my field of expertise.”

Bokuto lays a hand over the earth mage’s shoulder. “Hey, you kept him alive ‘Kaashi.” He says, softly, almost comforting. “He’s probably just disoriented. Tsukki, hey?” he says, waving a hand behind Akaashi’s head. “What's the last thing you remember?”

Kei squeezes his eyes shut. It’s too much. “The clock had a double curse.” He grits out and more blood pours forth from his nose. Akaashi holds a white kerchief up to it. “I tried, I-“

To his side, he hears Kuroo growl. “No.” he snarls. “Leave him- Bo, can you get Kei some food? Me too.”

Bokuto grumbles but complies, he feels uncharacteristically like a breeze blowing through tree leaves. Especially when he touches Akaashi.

The earth mage himself feels different, there’s something piquant that was not there when Kei first met him. It’s too much to think about, he leans into the long-fingered hands around his face, letting them take his pain away. It takes a while for his head to stop pounding and his voice to stop bleeding. Kuroo doesn’t move from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Finally, Akaashi looks away, blue eyes curious. “How do you feel?” he asks

“Better.” Kei sighs, looking down at himself. “What happened?” he asks as he glances at Kuroo, at how the mattress dips where he is sitting. “Did we succeed? Why are we still here?”

Akaashi looks away, face turning remorseful. “Partially.” He says, fiddling with the sheet that covers Kei’s body. “Kuroo-san got his body back but-“

“But what?” Kei snaps impatiently. 

“I- he still is bound to the house and the portal. “Akaashi hesitates. “And so are you, we couldn’t get either you out of the house.”

It takes a second for Kei to process the man’s words, he lifts a shaking hand to his face and removes his glasses. The room is immediately painted in ribbons of golden light, the same ribbons from under the vortex, they wrap lazily around Kei’s middle and then extend, like cables towards Kuroo’s abdomen, wrapping around it too and then disappearing into the floor in the general direction of the portal.

Kei shoves his glasses back on, he’s dizzy. And then he notices the sun outside, high and bright in the sky it must not be too far past midday. “How long was I out?” it was late afternoon when they tried to break the curses. 

It’s Kuroo that answers this time. “Two days.” He says, voice heavy with remorse. “We weren’t sure you were going to wake up.”

He looks so sad, so guilty, the set of his lips is a millimetre away from a pout. Kei can’t even muster enough energy to still be mad at him, not when knowing that he probably was on that chair for all of those two days. Now that he has calmed down, Kei can even spot a small, thin cot beside the bed, with a lumpy pillow on top. He stayed.

That is just the man he is.

And then he remembers the whispered words from when Kuroo was walking into the portal, his breath hitches. He almost does something stupid, even but the Bokuto bursts in, with food that smells far too good for a few onigiri and steamed fish. 

.

.

Their usual carriage is waiting for them like always. Keiji doesn’t know how, but Kenma seems to be able to summon it and it’s taciturn driver anywhere. 

Maybe the man is someone else that Kenma has helped in a whim, who knows.

They pile inside, he sits beside Kenma leaving the bench in front of them for Bokuto to occupy and throw his furs into the empty part of, autumn may be starting but it's still too warm for those at ground level Nekoma -although Keiji does understand their importance in the air, better than anyone-. This has the advantage of not being pressed up against the man’s side all through the trip, although it does make for a lot of knee bumping and unintentional glances.

“Are you sure we should go?” Bokuto asks, leaning forward as they depart. “I mean we’ve stayed the night until now.”

Kenma looks away. “Tsukishima is fine now.” He says quietly. “I’m sick of sleeping on that living room, it’s drafty.” 

“It might be better to give them some privacy,” Keiji interjects, much too aware of the way Bokuto perks up and his body turns completely to him. “I haven’t known either of them as long as you two have, but it is clear there are things they need to work out.”

The air mage hums. “I’m not sure.” He glances at Kenma. “With their past, it sure sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“ _I,_ think they should talk.” Kenma smiles slightly, head turned to the window.

Bokuto pouts, bottom lip pushing out enticingly. “You’ve been all smug since we came back from getting those anchors.” He whines. “Can’t you just tell us?”

Kenma shakes his head. “No, you can’t keep a secret, so you can find out when Kuroo does. I might tell Akaashi if he wants to know.”

Keiji waves him off, smiling softly. “I can wait too.”

The rest of the ride is spent in relative silence, aside from the occasional comment from Bokuto about how unfair it is that he isn’t being told whatever secret Kenma now knows. Keiji doesn’t feel particularly curious about it, he has pieced together enough about the former relationship between Tsukishima and Kuroo to know that it’s a hopeless mess.

And also that it will probably be rekindled soon, one way or another, no one looks at someone else that way and lets them go a second time.

They step off the carriage, Kenma heading for his home while Keiji makes for the inn that he has been staying in, or tries to. A wide hand closes over his shoulder, startling him so that he almost ends up sending Bokuto flying. “Hey Akaashi I-“ Bokuto looks hesitant. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that Keiji has been avoiding him since they came back from that little town. It is childish, he knows, but this virtual stranger isn’t entitled to his past. 

“Was there something you needed, Bokuto-san?” he answers, turning around to meet the bronze eyes of the other voice carefully nonchalant.

Bokuto pouts. “Do you want to go get dinner?” He blurts out, teeth worrying at his lower lip. Keiji opens his mouth to decline, but then the man interrupts him. “I think I kind of made you uncomfortable. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” Keiji’s mouth snaps shut and Bokuto grins. “The ramen here is unreal?”

Keiji sighs and nods, it’s hard to say no to that face. “You’re very considerate Bokuto-san.” He says, mirroring the other’s gesture by lifting one of his hands to the place where the sleeveless tunic that Bokuto is wearing exposes his shoulder. “Lead the way.” It doesn’t have the intended effect, on him at least, Keiji finds himself wanting to let his hand linger, Bokuto’s arm is warm, wrapped in corded muscle.

It is not appropriate, however, so after an awkward second where their eyes meet, and it feels like Bokuto is going to say something, Keiji recoils, tugging the sleeves of his tunic over his hands as he follows Bokuto.

.

.

After seeing him eat for the last four days, Koutarou can say with confidence that the first time wasn’t an isolated thing.

Akaashi is a messy eater.

He is also a very cute eater, so Koutarou can’t be anything other than amused at the discovery.

They ended up going for sweet buns after the ramen, mostly because he has been wanting to spend more time with Akaashi, and with the earth mage avoiding him the past few days it hasn’t been too easy. Besides, he did have to manage a very jumpy, guilty and annoyed Kuroo who spent the two days that Tsukishima was unconscious pacing around the cabin like a caged lion, nearly setting the wooden structure on fire every two steps he took.

They are sitting outside of the store in a little bench, backs to the wooden wall, soft amber light draping over them from a couple of lanterns above. 

And Akaashi has red bean paste on his face. He grimaces when he notices Koutarou’s eyes drifting to it. “Again?” he sighs, fumbling with his bun. “Can you help me with it Bokuto-san? Since you finished yours already?”

Well, he’s not going to say no. “Sure,” Koutarou says, with a grin that’s probably too wide, his cheeks hurt and he feels like a live-wire. 

His hand rises to Akaashi’s face and he wipes the paste from the corner of Akaashi’s mouth softly. Then, without thinking, lifts the thumb to his mouth and sucks the sweet sauce from it. 

Akaashi goes beet red and Koutarou, realizing what he just did scrambles to try and dissolve the awkwardness. “U-uh sorry.” But that doesn’t help, Akaashi looks away, ears burning, blue eyes avoiding Koutarou’s. “Soooo… Where are you going after- if-“ he stumbles over his words as Akaashi’s head whips back around.

The earth mage hums. “I don’t know, I was traveling around the coast before.” He says, voice small and glad. “But after a while the humidity got bothersome.”

“So you don’t have like a destination?” Koutarou leans in to ask. “Where are you fro-“ he stops himself, not wanting to alienate the other again.

Akaashi looks at him, head craned to the side, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “No, I don’t.” He says. “And technically I was born in Fukurodani, but my dad and I moved to Wakunan when I was very little.”

Koutarou’s eyes widen. “Really?!” he bellows. “I’m from Fukurodani too.” He grins. “And that’s a huge chance it’s like almost across the country.” Wakunan is on the southern coast, while Fukurodani lies deep in the northern mountains of the country. 

“I figured. You have the look.” Akaashi says, looking out at the darkness. “I always have thought that is why I don’t get used to the heat easily.” He fingers at the hem of his robe. “Even now…”

“Well, why do you wear the robe then?” Koutarou blurts out. A stunned expression takes over Akaashi's face and he almost wants to take it back.

Until Akaashi laughs that is, he has a really pretty laugh. “You’re right.” He says, eyes drifting down to Koutarou’s bare arms. “I got used to this back when- anyways, there’s no reason to wear it.” He says and starts unfastening the buttons of the robe.

“Mos people don’t wear it on the daily.” Koutarou agrees, looking away, suddenly bashful. “Even Tsukki _hated_ the ones that his parents made him wear.”

“Why?” Akaashi asks, and then adds in an amused tone. “You can look, I wouldn’t have taken it off if I was nude beneath it.”

Koutarou flushes. “Oh! Right! Yeah.” He looks back at where Akaashi is wearing a simple linen shirt with a pronounced v at the neck that exposes his dainty collarbones and brown, high waisted pants that have two rows of buttons at his waist. The robe is folded neatly to his side and Koutarou’s brain stops working for a second. “Oya- I-“ he tries to remember what he said before. “Oh, they were the same color as his hair.” He says, snickering nervously. “He looked like a temple statue, and besides, Karasuno is generally pretty warm, it must’ve been annoying to wear those in summer.”

“I can imagine,” Akaashi says lowly, and Koutarou might be mistaken, but it seems like the earth mage is leaning a little closer. There’s a moment of silence, comfortable in the warm night air. “It isn’t that I do not want to tell you,” Akaashi says then, one of his hands rubbing absently at a swirling, thick scar on his right arm. It's so pale it almost isn't visible. “I haven’t told anyone before, Kozume just knew because well- he found me.”

“’s fine.” Koutarou hurries to say, studying Akaashi’s stoic profile and the way he rubs over the scar tenderly, Koutarou has seen enough of those, he knows what it is. “I was curious but, I'm not if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.”

There’s a little moment where he feels like Akaashi is not going to say anything, but then, still looking out at the dark street in front of them, hand on his arm, he sighs. “It isn’t an uncommon story. My father had a lot of debts.” Akaashi starts. “He died when I was fifteen, too much drink. My mother was long dead, and some of the people he owed money to weren’t… good.”

Koutarou isn’t too sure what to say, Akaashi’s face has remained impassive. “They kidnapped you?”

“Yes.” Akaashi shrugs. “It might have been a lot worse, had I not been a mage. They forced us too take an obedience vow and then rented us out.” He turns to meet Koutarou’s wide eyes, noticing his clenched fists. “Not that way… mostly.” He looks away again. “I tried to be unpleasant, and thankfully no one tried to outright buy me. At the start of this year Kozume stumbled upon us, he was looking for someone to help with Kuroo-san. I couldn’t but he liked me enough to help me out.”

“So Kenma sneaked you out?” Koutarou asks.

Akaashi shakes his head “He bought me, I wouldn’t have been able to leave if they didn’t dissolve the vow.” Koutarou feels his face scrunch up as it dawns on him, he suddenly has an overpowering urge to punch something. Not Akaashi, of course, never Akaashi. He tries to say something but his head feels like it’s been filled with cotton and anger. It takes one of the earth mage’s long-fingered hands setting atop of his fisted ones for him to snap out of it. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m furious,” Koutarou answers even as the tension melts from his shoulders as his eyes and Akaashi’s meet. “I don’t suppose you want someone to beat those shitbag’s asses?”

Akaashi smiles at him then, angelic, even though his eyes are sad. “It’s not that easy.” He says. “But that does sound nice.”

He doesn't mean it that literally, even Koutarou can tell -and _he_ means it literally- but he still grins at the earth mage. “Count on me ‘Kaashi” He feels a flush rise to his cheeks. “Hey, you know? You could visit Fuku with me too. I bet you would like it.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think of it, but hell, Koutarou would want nothing more. “Have you been? Since you were a kid, I mean.”

“No Bokuto-san.” He says and Koutarou notices that Akaashi's hand hasn’t moved from where it’s poised above his. “But going with you sounds like something I would love to do.”

He hopes to the gods he isn’t supposing wrong.

Koutarou turns one of his hands around, wrapping it around Akaashi's slender wrist, marveling at how long, how graceful Akaashi’s hands are.

When he finally manages enough courage to look up at the earth mage, their eyes meet immediately. The dark-haired man is barely shorter than Koutarou, their faces are almost level with each other. And Koutarou’s heart stutters to a halt for a fraction of a second.

The wind around them picks up and Akaashi’s lips are half-open. Those sad, blue eyes have captured Koutarou’s, unwavering and brave. There’s no stopping himself, there probably hasn’t been since he wiped the red bean paste off Akaashi’s cheek. 

Koutarou leans in, Akaashi meets him in the middle. Soft lips melt into Koutarou’s wind-chapped ones, a hand cradles his jaw and Koutarou, _oh,_ he is putty in Akaashi’s hands, he still will be when they finish kissing, and tomorrow, and the day after.

He pulls Akaashi closer by his waist, relishing on the sweet taste of his lips, and stops thinking for a good, long while.

.

.

Kenma, Akaashi, and Bokuto leave late in the afternoon, after a very long, discussion about Tetsuro and Tsukishima’s current circumstances that seemed to go in circles. 

He had to flat out refuse to let Tsukishima try and untangle them from the portal, at least for a couple of days. The blond didn’t really object, seeing as doing anything more strenuous than just looking at the way the magic wraps around their bodies brought on a nosebleed and rather horrid headaches.

Tetsuro has tried not to think about it, but the obvious conclusion is on the back of his mind, calling out to him, and he is afraid of what he might decide to do once he faces it.

As they left Kenma pulled him aside for a second. “I was in Karasuno on the day we tried breaking the curses.” He said quickly, eyes darting to the porch steps where Tsukishima was talking with Akaashi. “I don’t think we have enough time, just-“ his smaller hands squeeze Tetsuro’s. “Ask him about his wife Kuro, there are things you need to know.”

If he didn’t know for a fact that this is the only room that has a floor that won't cave in under him, Tetsuro would gladly go sleep there. As it is, the hall with its air currents and the living room with its rotting furniture are looking like good options.

But then Tsukishima might get stubborn and try to give him the bed again. So here he stays, staring at the low ceiling on the room, his back protesting over the thin, rough cot that he has been sleeping in for the last two days. The sky outside the window is dark, full of stars and the night is filled with the croaking of frogs.

At some point, while he was stuck not being quite corporeal, he stopped noticing all these things, and now they hit him like a punch in the gut. It was not the first time he was in peril of dying, probably not even the tenth, Tetsuro has lived an eventful life. But then, he never resigned himself fully to it, not like this. It is one thing to curse in your head and think that it’s the end when a cauldron explodes, it’s another completely to take ten months to accept that your body is lost to the abyss and your mind is sure to follow it soon. And it might be a relief.

He hears Tsukishima coming up the stairs, his steps careful. The blond grunts every time a wooden step creaks and Tetsuro figures that some things never do change. Small, unimportant things, the important ones do change.

The blond enters the room, clad in a thin tunic shirt and soft linen pants that Bokuto fetched for him from his inn room. His hair is a little wet and it’s a wonder that the downstairs bathroom still works because his other clothes were caked in sweat and blood. Tetsuro can only look at him for a second, memories rush past him and he can’t handle them at the moment. 

Tsukishima takes the time to place his folded gloves on the small table on the opposite side f the bed, then he sighs. “We should take turns for the bed.” He says dryly, even as he sits on it and leans back into the headboard. “You already braved that cot for two days.”

“’m fine,” Tetsuro grumbles. “’s nice to feel something solid under me after everything.”

A second passes and then the blond snaps. “Fine, see if I care.” He bites out and lays down on the bed, back stubbornly turned to Tetsuro.

For a second he remembers Kenma’s advice, but he can’t bring himself to ask, not now, not yet. He’s tired anyways, Tetsuro pulls the thin blanket over his shoulders and wraps the long pillow that Bokuto procured for him around his head. 

And he falls quickly into a fitful sleep.

.

.

_The dress is ostentatious and absolutely too much. Tsukishima’s bride is swallowed in it, a pretty, unhappy face in a mass of silk and tulle and lace. Tetsuro recognizes her, if only faintly, she probably lives in Karasuno, distantly, his brain provides an image of that shiny, blond hair bobbing along beside Yamaguchi’s shoulder at the market._

_He doesn’t know her name anyway and Yamaguchi, for some reason, isn't around._

_Weird._

_At least she isn’t one of those vapid ones from the so-called ‘good families’ of the county that he knows full well Tsukishima can’t stand._

_Although maybe it would be best for her to be, Tetsuro can tell, for all she tries to smile, she still looks absolutely miserable._

_The dress has golden accents, a not so subtle nod to the groom’s family._

_Tetsuro wants to puke, he wants to burn the forest down._

_Lightning shoots up and down his arm, the vow to Tsukishima’s father reminding him that he can’t get closer. Instead, he walks parallel to the entourage, hidden in the dense foliage for the small distance between the carriage and the temple’s entrance. Two servants carry the train of her dress, and are dutifully scaring of a particularly stubborn crow that keeps on trying to land on it._

_At the door, he sees him. In a robe similar to the one he wore when they first met, only this one is covered in embroidery in all its extension. Birds and flowers and plants, it’s beautiful, there are even some gemstones embedded, here and there. The thing probably weighs as much as a traveling pack, Kei must be hating it._

_His overextends his hand out to the girl's, and her small, pale, dainty one takes it like she actually needs help going up the three steps -maybe she does, with all that fabric- and hey look so much like Tsukishima’s parents, Tetsuro can't stand to look at the picture they make for a second longer._

_He turns around and runs off, ignoring the way his vision has gone blurry and his throat burns._

_He has things to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, boy! I hope this has started to answer some questions nicely, lol. we have a few more chapters to go still, though, lots of things that need a resolution.  
> I always love to red what you think, any feedback, criticism, is much appreciated.  
> Y'all are too sweet, it makes my day
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	7. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the hardest thing to do is say something one has been putting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we arrive!  
> Lol, thanks everyone for all your support!!

Kuroo’s breathing takes around half an hour to even out.

Kei waits for fifty breaths after it does, to be sure, and only then does he turn around.

The moon is shining outside, it casts it’s glow across Kuroo’s face, as do the ribbons of magic tied around his middle, connecting him to Kei. He was hard to look at before, all Kei could focus on was that he could see the walls through Kuroo and the possible implications of it made him want to puke or run away.

Now though, despite the unequivocal magic glow, Kuroo is there, solid and alive. A part of Kei, one that has refused to be touched by anyone else after that night when Kuroo left him, is urging him to slip out of bed and into the cot, to press his ear to Kuroo’s chest and prove to himself that he has a heart and it _is_ beating.

Kuroo doesn’t look too different from what Kei remembers, maybe because his body got stuck in the portal no more than two months after he left Kei. Perhaps his cheekbones are slightly more pronounced, his skin a little less tan. But otherwise it is his Kuroo, with his full lips, messy, soft hair and lean body, the body that has held Kei in every way. 

As if noticing his stare, the man grimaces and curls tighter into himself, eyebrows furrowing together, there’s an air of vulnerability to him, of loneliness that is all too familiar. That is, he knows how to erase it, and in a way he still wants to.

And it sings to Kei.

In the narrow room, the cot lies barely a few centimetres from the edge of the bed. Kei pulls himself closer to the edge until his bent knees are sticking out of the bed. As if bewitched, he can’t stop his hand from reaching out, Kuroo’s face is sandwiched between two pillows as usual, and Kei’s fingers brush over the soft skin of his right cheekbone.

But Kuroo is still frowning, a small whimper escapes him. Kei’s hand slides to cup his cheek, rubbing soothing circles into the man's temple while brushing softly at his jaw with his thumb. It takes a few seconds, but the other’s face finally relaxes, leaning slightly into the touch, and Kei has never been more glad that the fire mage is such a deep sleeper.

It’s only then that he notices how the moonlight glints off his marriage vow, it’s fainter now than it ever was, but still there. He recoils, curling into himself.

Truly, marriage vows are such a stupid thing. Kei can’t even consider them real vows, all they do is identify the two participants as the other’s match. They don’t carry promises of anything, be it obedience, fidelity, or otherwise. It’s mostly symbolic, but a nuisance all the same.

He sighs, buries his head in the pillow and tries to sleep.

.

.

_The door closes behind his back with a deafening sound._

_Kei’s eyes drift from one blond woman to the other. Trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible when his eyes fall on his mother’s smiling face._

_She takes a step forward. “You see, daring?” She says smiling, hands reaching out to grab Kei’s left, where the marriage vow he subjected himself to an hour ago is etched. “It’s so becoming.” She says, and then turning to his bride. “Welcome to the family Hitoka.”_

_“T-thank you.” Hitoka says, and Kei admires the effort she still makes to be even marginally pleasant when she is just as much of a prisoner here as he. And she is losing so much more, Kei might never forgive himself for this, not when his best friend’s happiness is being so obviously hindered by his very existence. Kei wishes he could do something, but the option are risky and Hitoka is just as caged in by the wards as he._

_It’s what the wards are for now, it seems. And it makes Kei seethe._

_Kei clears his throat and snatches the hand away from his mother’s grasp, offering his right instead. “You promised.” He says, glaring at the dark, sinuous rune of the obedience vow._

_“I would prefer to wait until morning, darling.” She says, gently, pushing his hand to the side and leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek, then moving on to his bride and hugging her._

_Kei stands there, frozen. “You promised mother.” He says, gripping her shoulder. “If you do not-“_

_She glances at him, impatient, and delicately pulls his hand away. Kei can feel white-hot rage coursing through his veins, even this, even this he’s going to be forced into. “I am just looking out for you darling, now-“ but she is cut off by the very estate trembling around her._

_It is more instinct than it is anything else, he is so overcome with anger that he reaches out to any and all magic around them. And of course, he finds the wards. It’s too unfocused an effort, more akin to a large hand grabbing a cage and rattling it than doing any of the untangling that he would have to do to bring them down._

_Blood gushes from his nose, staining the heirloom robe he was forced to wear for this night, and his mother gasps. This has become a sadly common occurrence, it's all Kei can do, he can't outright disobey her while the vow is still on his hand, but h'es little good to her passed out and covered in blood. Ironically, the wards are extremely convenient for this. “I can keep going until I pass out.” He growls. “You already got what you wanted, now do what you promised me.”_

_She looks down bitterly at Kei’s offered hand. “I hope you can one day see that I did this for your own good.” His mother says and then, Kei can feel the searing pain for the last time. For all her meekness, his mother is swift at this, she would have to be, she forced the vow on a mostly unwilling Kei in the first place._

_After she is done, he turns his back on her, slipping an arm over Hitoka’s back, pulling her so she’s turned away from his mother, pushing her blond hair aside in a gesture that he hopes reads as tender. “I believe we should be alone,” he says coldly over his shoulder._

_And he doesn’t let go of his bride’s shoulders until the door snaps shut._

_._

_._

At first, he thinks it’s the morning sun that has woken him up, dancing across his face. But then he notices Kuroo’s gaze on him, or rather, on his hand, which is hanging out of the bed.

His left.

Kei immediately pulls it back to hide under the covers, but it’s already too late. Kuroo’s eyes are curious, traveling over Kei’s face. “It’s fading.” He croaks, voice rough, he probably woke up a couple of minutes before Kei did. “I though those only disappeared when-“

The spark of hope I Kuroo’s eyes makes him a little nauseous, he even gets a little dizzy as he sits up on the bed. It was more of a matter of principle, not telling Kuroo about what really happened, Kei didn’t think he owed any explanations, especially about his marriage. 

But then, the cat is out of the bag now, a sigh bubbles up his throat. “She’s not dead. But we never did complete the ritual.” Kei says, staring out of the window, he doesn’t want to see the pity in Kuroo’s eyes when he connects the dots, Kei has always hated pity. “Why do you think I wear the gloves? I hate annoying questions.”

“B-but-“ Kuroo stammers, eyes widening as he rises up on his knees. “I thought you- I mean I saw you, that day, no one dragged you to the temple.”

Kei can feel a pit opening in his belly, he shoves his other hand on Kuroo’s face, where the pale scars of the other vow remain. “Because of this.” He says before it dawns on him and he is turning violently to the side, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, leaving him sitting right in front of Kuroo. “Wait what do you mean you saw me, were you there?”

Kuroo looks away, cheeks flushing red. “I had to see, it hadn’t even been two months…” he reaches out to grab Kei’s hand. Kei hesitates for a second, but he allows the contact, it’s the first time they touch and it sends bolts of hear through his skin. “So they did it to you too…” Kuroo lets out a bitter laugh. “I was mad, you know? I'm an idiot, I should have realized.”

Kei sighs, feeling a wave of sadness wash over him. “I thought you knew me enough.” He withdraws the hand gently. “I thought I knew you too.” He figures that’s going to be it, Kuroo knows how pathetic he is now, how even after he was left with barely an explanation, Kei would have never married someone else if he had been able to help it.

But then Kuroo scrambles up, eyes almost desperate, he tugs up the sleeve of his shirt almost violently, shoving his forearm in front of Kei’s face. It is there, mocking, the scar tissue stands out on Kuroo’s tanned skin, the rune a twin to the one on Kei’s hand. “I couldn’t get close to you, not even write a letter, and then the invitation arrived and-” He mumbles something unintelligible and bites his lower lip. “It disappeared after the portal, counted as death, I guess.”

Fingers tracing gently over the pale scar tissue, Kei meets his eyes. “How? My mother?” he asks, fingers coming up to trace the pattern of the scar. 

“And your father.” Kuroo hangs his head. “He said he would hurt you and your brother… and the girls if I didn’t. And she put the ark on my arm.”

A strange sort of relief courses through Kei’s veins, twisted and useless, but relief all the same. He tugs on Kuroo’s arm so the man will sit beside him on the bed. “She got me drunk,” Kei says as he feels the other’s weight settle beside him. “The day after you left, I was going to go too. I wanted an explanation at least.” He shrugs. “I knew they would start pushing but I didn’t realize how much they had planned for it.”

“I thought you couldn’t force one of these,” Kuroo mumbles, taking Kei’s pale hand in his again. "I mean like physically force it."

“Most people can’t, I guess with our powers we can bend the rules a little.” He sighs, pressing himself closer to Kuroo until their clothed thighs are touching. “I was blind drunk, it’s not like I could've resisted.”

Kuroo’s shoulders shake and Kei can’t help the guilt that washes over him. He spent all this time thinking that Kuroo at least partly wanted to leave him. Thinking that the other didn’t consider the bond between them strong enough to brave his parents. But knowing how inexorable that kind of vow is, Kei finds himself disarmed.

“I didn’t think they would do it to their son.” Kuroo continues. And then his head snaps up. “But then how? Why?” he is looking pointedly at the faded vow on Kei’s other hand. “You didn’t finish the ritual, but then-”

“I-“ Kei sighs. “Do you remember on that last trip that Yamaguchi kept getting all these letters from a girl? And he said he would introduce her once we were back home?” he asks, and Kuroo nods, understanding already dawning over his features. “Her name is Hitoka, I didn’t know her, but apparently she comes from what my parents called a ‘decent’ line. They paid her parents a lot of money as son as you left Karasuno and that was it.”

“She didn’t look like any of the ones your mother paraded around the estate.” Kuroo’s hands curl into fists, knuckles going white. “I guess that’s why.”

“Apparently nobody else would have me. She was their only chance.” Kei chuckles humorlessly. “At that point, they would have taken any woman so long as they had magic, nut I would have never done that to Tadashi. I- _we_ ran away the night they made us get married.”

Kuroo frowns. “I thought you couldn’t get past the wards?”

"I almost died, I actually broke my leg." Kei bites his lower lip, meeting the other's eyes, there's no judgment there and suddenly Kei wants to kiss him. He averts his eyes and starts talking, at least the story isn’t dull. “We hadn’t even prepared, but then when, we were supposed to do it…”

.

.

_After his mother leaves the room, Kei lets go of Hitoka’s shoulders. He trudges to the bed and lets his body fall face first on it._

_“Uhmm.” He hears her hesitate behind him._

_Gods, he needs Tadashi here, they both do. But his mother sent him away as soon as they formalized the engagement, clearly aware that he and Hitoka had been courting._

_It probably didn't do to have someone Kei could consider an ally around either._

_Kei takes a few breaths, dread settling on his stomach, he doesn’t want to do this any more than she does. But then if they don’t then tomorrow will be an even more horrible day, and the next day even more so. He hears the rustling of cloth behind him, garments falling one by one to the ground, then one choked off sob and another._

_He doesn’t have a plan, not really. Maybe in these few weeks, he has dreamed of what he would do if the vow weren’t an iron shackle on his wrist, but he has never thought of anything with a structure, with an actual ending where he actually manages the getaway. But then, she’s openly sobbing behind him, even as she lays down beside Kei, carefully tugging on her shift so it covers as much as it can._

_No, Kei can’t do this, not to her, or to Tadashi or to himself._

_He turns his own watery gaze on her. “I don’t want to do this.”_

_“It’s fine, I know- I-“ her voice is shaky, brown eyes set downwards, makeup smeared around them. “I know what is exp-“_

_And it’s that resignation, it throws him back to the way Kuroo looked at him that night. And Kei is done, he is_ done _. He remembers the way it felt to rattle the wards earlier. Could he do it? Could he create a hole big enough for the two of them to slip through? Maybe, and if he can't what is the worst that can happen? They can't forcibly marry him to someone again. “I think I can breach the wards.” He says softly. “But it’s just a hunch, we might not make it.”_

_Her eyes widen, surprised. “You mean tonight?” she asks in a whisper. “I had planned- I thought if I could get through the first few weeks they would lower their guard and-“_

_"They won't, but we can try now. There's a party downstairs, maybe that will give us some time." And Kei wants to laugh, of course she wasn’t going to take this lying down either. “Unless you want to get on with this charade.”_

_“No.” She says, face suddenly determined. “I’m glad you got her to free you,” Hitoka says as she slips out of the bed and starts rummaging through her trunk, pulling out what looks like men’s clothes and a small satchel. "Tadashi-kun didn't want to leave you alone here either."_

_“I'm glad you’re on my side,” Kei says back as he hurries to his dresser. He changes into nondescript clothes, the kind that he wore when Bokuto wanted to go somewhere messy and straps his only dagger around his waist._

_There’s a small leather bag on the back of the dresser, Kei checks its contents, his savings for a trip along the western coast that he will never take with someone he will never see again have remained untouched, thankfully. All things considered, it seems obvious that those are all he should take. He glances at the bundle of letters on the corner._

_No, Kuroo is gone._

_Kei is doing this for himself._

_He shrugs on a coat and turns back, to find a stable boy standing behind him, Hitoka has been careful, not one strand of blond hair escapes the cap she wears and the clothes make her body look square and boyish. “How are we going to get out of the house?” she asks. "I guess we could sneak past the hall, but-"_

_Kei points at the window._

_She’s surprisingly agile while scurrying down the large tree that he and Tadashi used to sneak out when they were kids, Kei has a bit more difficulty, with his long legs. Inside, the party is still going, Kei hopes his mother won’t feel him leaving until it’s too late. “We have to run now.” He says, leaning towards her. “My parents will come running as soon as they feel me get far from the house.” And they would bring the few guards that the estate has. Kei isn't a fighter and neither is Hitoka, they won't have a shot if the guards surround them._

_“I understand,” she says, nodding resolutely. "I can't do much but if it's any use I can lend you my magic."_

_Kei nods tersely. "But if they catch up to us you have to run." He says low and urgent, then takes her hand and starts running._

_The price for having wards this powerful and specific is that they can't be too big, they reach the boundary soon enough, ahead, the forest is visible in the darkness, just out of reach. Already, he can hear the music of the party dying and a chorus of confused vices. Hitoka looks up at him with wide eyes, and she channels her own magic into Kei’s hand._

_It’s time._

_Disassembling the wards feels much like crossing them did that first day when he and Kuroo came back. Kei isn't stupid, they tower over him, this isn't going to be something he will have time to do with finesse. Instead, he throws everything he has at them, all the pent up anger and hurt from the past few months, all he can get from himself and her. Blood pours from his nose and down his ears, it’s a titanic effort, even though Kei has spent enough time -in those sad nights when he woke up expecting a scent, a voice that weren't there- feeling them to know how they come together, figuring out where to pull, where to cut to make them fall apart._

_He feels bile rise up to the back of his throat, the muscles in his back and legs cramp and Kei fears he’s going to fall._

_There are yells now, behind them, too close for comfort, but he’s almost there, almost there. it feels like he's opening a chasm on the world itself. “Now.” He manages to spit out, and Hitoka rushes forward, her small hand pulling him through the opening which closes behind him._

_From then it’s all running, running through the dense forest until he can't see where he is going and Hitoka has to use her earth magic to pull him up into the branches of a tree when they feel their pursuers on their heels._

_Kei uses the last he has then, cloaks them both, while begging the two small crows in a nest beside them not to make any sound. He keeps it up when even his eyes won't stay open and his shirt is soaked with blood._ _Keeps it up until he feels them leave and then, in the dim light of pre-dawn, he pulls back and smiles Hitoka. "Are you alright?" before promptly falling out of the tree._

_._

_._

Tetsuro listens, alternating between rage and awe. Eyes roving over Tsukishima’s sad face, his hunched back, his long limbs. 

“She ran to town and found Hinata.” The blond finishes. “They hid me for a few days and got Sugawara to treat my leg, at least until the bone wasn’t going through the skin. Then Tadashi showed up," He smiles a little to himself. "I made him promise to go tell Akiteru to leave and to take Hitoka away to somewhere safe.” He scoffs. “I guess that was the right choice with what you've told me.”

“And then?” Tetsuro asks, one of his hands closing over Tsukishima’s scarred ones. Finally understanding and feeling like a piece of garbage for doubting Kei in the first place.

“They shipped me off to Aoba.” He says. “There is a doctor there, a friend of Kageyama’s his name is Iwaizumi.” Tsukishima looks up sadly. “We’re waiting for the vow to break. We didn’t- um, you know. It shouldn't be long now until it does now.”

“Kei, I-“ He's ready to say it, to apologize once again, for everything, to tell Tsukishima that he meant his words three days ago, that there will always be a place for him with Tetsuro, but the blond’s face is conflicted, turned away from him and full of remorse.

Somehow, it doesn’t seem like it would work out.

The sound of a door slamming shut downstairs startles them both. “I have breakfast!!” Bokuto hollers. “Where are you, Tsukki!! Kuroo!!” he continues, managing to sound even louder and more enthusiastic than usual. “You better be wearing clothes when I find you.” They can hear his feet stomping on the wood even up here and for a second Tetsuro is glad that he can't feel the house itself anymore, the portal is still there, a dark reminder of the fact that he's tied to it, but not the house.

Tsukishima stands up swiftly, he wipes at his eyes, and disappears through the door, presumably headed for the wind mage’s whereabouts. 

And Tetsuro is left sitting on the bed with his heart in his throat, wondering if maybe, despite the reasons for their split not mattering much anymore, he still did lose Tsukishima for good.

.

.

Letting Kuroo and Tsukishima have some time alone so they could finally air their respective secrets seemed like the right thing to do.

Objectively, it appears that they did talk, Tsukishima comes down without his gloves, and Kuroo’s sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, both allowing the view of the scars where each once had an obedience vow burned into their skin.

On the other hand, Kuroo looks like he has been fed one of those sketchy energy options from the dark side of the market, shifty, hyperactive, gaze jumping to and from Tsukishima –who is sitting in the furthest chair he could find- at least three times every ten seconds.

And Tsukishima just looks sad, massively so. Kenma has never seen someone push food around a plate with such an air of despair, even _he_ feels like the blond might need a hug.

Not that he doesn’t understand why, the blond’s parents are despicable people.

But still, part of him hoped he would find them sitting close together trying to be coy while maintaining as much contact between their bodies as possible, the way they did when they first got together. He pads over to the sofa that Kuroo is sitting on. “Did you ask?” It might be better to play the fool on this. 

“I did.” Kuroo sighs. “How did you find out?”

“Hinata.” Kenma answers simply. “So, then?”

Kuroo shrugs, glaring into his juice. “Nothing, he told me, I told him.” his lips purse. “I’m sure we won’t be as antagonistic anymore.”

“Nothing else happened then?” He asks, tucking a strand of dark hair behind his ear.

“You guys interrupted,” Kuroo says, glancing at the blond and drawing his knees up to his chest. “But frankly I don’t think it will.”

Sometimes Kenma wonders how they even got together in the first place, both Kuroo and Tsukishima are amazingly stubborn. Add to that the fact that Tsukishima is deeply insecure and Kuroo is so much of a giver that he refuses to take things for himself, even when they are offered to him in a silver platter, and you have two people who simply refuse to say things to the other’s face.

He tries to think of something to say, maybe if Shouyo were here he could help. He has a much easier time making people talk to each other.

Kenma sighs and thinks it might be good to let it go, for now.

Though Kuroo and Tsukishima don’t seem to think the same. After everyone has eaten, they all go down to the basement, even the bedraggled, sleepy-looking Akaashi. Whom, Kenma notices is standing a lot closer than usual to Bokuto.

Interesting. 

“-line goes straight to Kuroo.” Tsukishima is explaining. “Tangles around him and then me, I think it’s the second curse on the clock, but since there’s no clock anymore…”

“No way to know.” Akaashi finishes. “Do you think you could untangle the both of you from it?”

Tsukishima sighs. “I can try.” He says, glancing at Kuroo, who is suddenly looking at him with murder in his eyes. “But the portal might explode if I don’t get the timing right for both of us.”

“And if you tried untangling just yourself?” Kenma interjects, lips pursing. “ It should be a lot easier than doing both of you.”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “The magic tying me to Kuroo would have no place to go, I wouldn’t be able to untangle him in time-“ he pauses for a moment. “But I could try to untangle him _first_.” He mutters, like he already knows the way Kuroo is looking at him and the fact that the expression in his face is not pleasant.

“You know you can't do that.” He starts soft, but it works up into a worried growl. “It’s drawing magic from both of us, I know you can feel it.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrow. “It wouldn’t be long.” He says. “I could do it.”

“How do you even know it won’t go crazy and kill you?” Kuroo hisses, walking up to where Tsukishima is standing, stopping only a foot from the blond. “What if you end up like I- the way I was?” he makes a motion as if he's going to dig the point of his index finger into Tsukishima’s chest. “Because let me tell you, Tsukki, it’s not nice.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Tsukishima bites out, stepping forward. “This could be over.” He says, hands coming up to Kuroo’s middle and tugging at something invisible there, something just above Kuroo's waist, careful not to touch the man. “If you could just trust me.”

Kuroo glares at him, even as Tsukishima’s hands fiddle with what Kenma can only assume is the ribbon of magic at his waist. It looks like Kuroo is going to answer but then, to everyone's surprise, a drop of red slides quickly down, over Tsukishima’s mouth and chin, and goes on to land on the dark floor.

The fire mage just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” Tsukishima snaps “Have it your way.” He says as he storms off, leaving Kuroo with a stubborn look on his face.

.

.

Dinner is a quiet affair. 

Bokuto tries to make it not so, piling Tsukishima’s plate with rice and excitedly trying to draw conversation from anyone who will listen to him. Only Akaashi’s hand as it is softly laid on his knee is able to make the wind mage calm down somewhat.

Tetsuro spends it all engulfed in worry.

And Tsukishima mostly refuses to look at him.

He is not being unreasonable, he knows that the portal might try and suck Tsukishima dry, the way it did with him -he made the damn thing, alright? he knows-. It already is straining his body, Tsukishima is probably the perfect victim for such a thing. And Tetsuro is not going to allow it to do that.

No matter what he has to do.

Not long after sundown, the rest of the group says their goodbyes, filing out of the door almost hurriedly. Tetsuro sighs and lets Tsukishima have the first tun on the house’s only functioning bathroom.

By the time he has gotten to bathe too, his head feels heavy, eyelids fighting to close as he trudges up the stairs. It’s strange to feel sleepy, or hungry again. Everything feels strange, like he has somehow been returned with a newborn’s skin.

The lamp in the room is off by the time he opens the door, but Tsukishima is sitting on the edge of the bed, turned towards the door, looking down at his hands. Tetsuro is still mad at the blond’s blatant disregard for his own safety, he considers walking past him with a huff.

“I thought we could switch tonight,” Tsukishima says dryly, eyes still downcast from what little Tetsuro can see in the dark. “You should sleep somewhere comfortable.”

And Tetsuro _knows_ him, knows this subdued, almost apologetic behavior. Tsukishima is blaming himself. He’s not sure for what, but then there are plenty of things he might be misconstruing, none of which are his fault, to begin with. “I told you I don’t need to.”

In the darkness, Tsukishima’s eyes narrow. “Why do you have to be so difficult?” he snaps. “I thought that was my job.”

Tetsuro shrugs, rounding the bed towards his coot. “A year in limbo can change things.” He mutters. “Besides, it really does feel good to touch things.”

“Then you should be a lot happier to sleep in an actual bed.” The blond shoots back, turning around to follow Tetsuro with his disapproving gaze. “I don’t understand why you have to be so mad.”

“I’m not mad!” Tetsuro snaps back. “You’re the one that’s mad.”

“How so?!” Tsukishima spits, hands curling into fists on the unmade bed. “You barely let me talk, you talk to me like I’m a kid, if anything I’m rightfully irritated!”

“You’re not turning this around on me,” Tetsuro says as he sits down on the cot, leaning towards the bed. “It was you that stormed out this morning, you were mad since then!”

There is a pause, the furrow between Tsukishima’s brows smooths over a little. “I didn't- I wasn’t _mad_.” He says, taking a deep breath. “Is it that strange to you that I needed a moment to think?” he sighs, looking down at the bedding. “I’m not asking you to bring back what- just treat me like a fucking adult!”

Tetsuro can’t help but lean in at the upset tone, he looks up into Tsukishima’s eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He confesses. “This is a problem I got myself into, it isn’t fair to ask you to hurt yourself to help.”

Tsukishima’s stiff back bows and he slumps to the side, leaning into the lumpy pillow, eyes meeting Tetsuro’s. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” He says. “I let them manipulate me, even before, I-“

“Kei.” Tetsuro cuts him off softly. “I was interested in this since before, I was bound to do something stupid at some point.”

“But I could have been there,” Tsukishima mutters, lower lip jutting out, breaths shakier each time. And Tetsuro doesn’t have anything to say, they both know that if the blond had been there Tetsuro would have never been this reckless.

“We can't do anything about it now.” He whispers as he lays down on the cot. “Sleep.”

There’s a moment of silence. “Did you really- Was it true? About not being able to touch anything.” Tsukishima's voice is low, almost intimate. 

Tetsuro props himself up on his right elbow. “Yes.” He shrugs. “Sometimes I just phased through the floors, I think I forgot a little how it felt. It’s weird when someone does now.”

Another beat of silence. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” Tetsuro hums, settling back into the cot. “It feels good, but also strange.”

The sound of cloth rustling on the bed makes him think that maybe he has satiated the blonds curiosity. He closes his eyes, begging for the dark to take him quickly. Until the voice drifts down to him, low and probably muffled by the sheets. “Come up here.”

“I'm not switching with you.” He mumbles, almost automatically though his heart is pounding. 

Tsukishima lets out an aggravated sigh. “That’s not what I’m saying Tetsuro.” He grumbles, and when Tetsuro is too stunned to answer, he hears the blond turn away so his body is facing the door. “Fine.”

There is no real reason why he shouldn’t, Tetsuro knows this, knows he wants to climb on the bed more than anything. A lot of things might happen tomorrow but that’s not a guarantee of anything, and he’s not that strong anyway.

Slowly, carefully, he rises from the cot and slips under the blankets on the bed. It’s a tight fit, they're both tall, but then the blond turns around to face him and Tetsuro can’t find it in himself to care that half his butt is hanging out. They stare not each other's eyes for a second, and he does his best not to flinch when Tsukishima’s left hand reaches over.

But Tsukishima sees, and he hesitates, he almost pulls away before Tetsuro lifts his own hand and wraps it around the blond’s wrist, despite the strange feeling that the other’s bare skin gives him. “Tsukki...”

“Stop trying to protect me.” Tsukishima says, frowning, even as his eyes go soft and he allows his hand to be pulled to Tetsuro’s face. “I don’t- I’m not backing down.” He whispers, trailing his fingers over Tetsuro’s cheek.

The contact is startling, maybe because it is Tsukishima, maybe because Tetsuro missed soft touches like this so much, so often. Sometimes he is glad he couldn't dream before, because at least half of his dreams would have been this. “I know.” He answers, closing his eyes as fingers trail over his eyelids. “You’re stubborn, that's why I’ve always liked you.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, _you_ make me stubborn.” Tsukishima says back and Tetsuro can feel the puffs of his breath washing over his skin. “I hate that you did this.”

He whimpers, leaning into the contact. “At least I still have some effect on you, it _has_ been seven years, not bad, huh?” he says, nuzzling the warm skin of Kei’s hand. “And I‘m sorry, this wasn’t how I wanted to meet you again.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “Then how? Knowing you… Did you have a whole thing planned out? His knuckles press softly to Tetsuro’s lips. 

“Mmm.” Tetsuro hums against that hand, feeling himself relax. “I was going to be this famous mage, first to make a portal purposefully. And you would look at me and-“ he trails off, he never knew what to put after that.

“And?” Tsukishima prompts him.

“I don’t know,” Tetsuro admits. “I thought you were married, and I couldn’t speak to you anyways. I guess I would have felt very superior or something.” He doesn’t know when, but the blond’s other hand has come up to clutch at Tetsuro’s, where they are pressed into his chest. “I just missed you.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath and the hand on his face disappears. Tetsuro’s heart manages to skip a beat in worry but then those lean arms are snaking around him, pulling his head to Tsukishima’s chest. “I missed you too.” It’s barely a whisper but he hears it just fine.

Tetsuro presses his forehead to that warm chest and tangles his legs together with the blond’s, falling in place like they have never spent a night apart. He clutches Tsukishima tight, feeling his chest swell and neither of them says anything, even though they both know what this means.

And it all is as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we are *wipes sweat off brow* at last they talked.  
> We're getting closer to the end nor, three or four chapters to go, I would say, but then y'all know me, could be more.  
> What'd you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on **finally** getting the rest of Kei's background lol.
> 
> Lots of love, Kyrye.


	8. Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In real life most things can't just be solved with a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here we are, second to last chapter. I'm so pumped, I have so much fun writing this.  
> I really hope you guys like this one, thanks everyone for being so supportive.

Kenma arrives at Karasuno when it's not yet fully light out.

The first train departs at five and he was desperate enough to take it. He's out of ideas and Tsukishima's plans to just try and detangle them are too risky. 

There's something here, he can feel it and it's probably the only thing that can save his best friend. It won't be easy to get, and he might end up banned from the city but if it saves Kuroo it's worth it.

His feet take him down a familiar path, the bakery is already up and running, and he spots a ginger head running around in there.

"Kenma!" Shouyo's eyes brighten, like they didn't just see each other a couple of days ago. He feels himself relax, despite the situation "You're back, how did it go?!" Kenma shakes his head and looks down. Shouyo physically deflates. "Oh."

"It's-" he sighs. "I actually need your help." he says. "You know the Tsukishima estate, don't you?"

Shouyo nods, face souring. "Pretty well. C'mon, I'll get us some breakfast and you can tell me why on earth you would want to go in there."

And Kenma follows, because no matter the situation, he always feels a little better with Shouyo around.

.

.

Waking up next to Kuroo has always been one of Kei’s favorite things.

For a second he feels like he did before they went back to Karasuno that last time. Secure, almost eager to go on with life and whatever it brought so long as he had his lover beside him. But then, of course, he remembers.

Kuroo is lying just the way he was when they fell asleep last night, curled into Kei’s chest, his soft black hair tickling Kei’s nose where it crests.

And he feels like bonfires and embers and _life_.

Kei clutches him closer, eyes roving over the handsome features of Kuroo’s face. He is here, he _is_ here and Kei came so close to losing him. So close and never even stopped loving him, if anything, every day of the wandering year that preceded this he found one other thing he missed, one more that he loved about Kuroo.

Even while he felt alone and rejected, even while he felt like the most foolish man in the world to have believed his parents could remain in his life.

“Mmm.”There’s a hitch of breath from Kuroo’s chest that Kei can feel in his own, and Kuroo timidly looks up at him, eyes bleary with sleep, and confused, question in them.

Kei smiles at him sleepy and yearning, and that’s the right answer, because Kuroo burrows his face into Kei's chest, a contented sigh escaping his mouth. Kei buries his nose in that dark hair. This Kuroo is more hesitant, more regretful than he’s used to, like he thinks Kei wouldn't want him after everything, even though he didn’t do anything wrong.

And Kei understands

That’s why he needs to prove him wrong, lest Kuroo thinks himself into a circle, as he is wont to do.

His hands travel down the man’s broad back to slip under the simple linen shirt he uses to sleep, they caress their way up Kuroo’s spine counting the little knobs, marveling on the warmth and the smoothness. 

Kuroo pulls his head back, eyes still bleary and slightly surprised. Kei kisses him before either of them can get too flustered. This isn’t how they usually are, or were, he thinks. Kuroo used to be the one soothing Kei, taking care of him when things got to be too much. But right now. Kei knows the man needs this, the touch, the assurance that no, neither of them will be going anywhere without the other if they can help it.

And Kei needs it too.

Besides, all these things, the ones they've worked through, and the ones that have yet to come up are hard for Kei to talk about. With Kuroo is always easier to show.

The kiss is a little rough, a little desperate, and Kuroo’s body shudders under his. Those hazel eyes look up at him, adoration plain on them as Kei slowly rolls them over so he’s mostly lying on top of Kuroo. Their bodies are pressed flush together. “Careful.” Kuroo croaks, like there’s a breath caught in his throat. “Haven’t touched much of anything in a year, remember?”

Kei stops for a moment, lips sliding over the place on the fire mages neck where he can feel his pulse the strongest. “I thought it didn’t hurt.” He says, even though he has the answer to his question pressed into his thigh, warm and hard. 

“It doesn’t.” He whimpers as Kei continues sucking at his neck. “It's just sensitive, I guess.” Kuroo’s face is turned away, cheeks flushed, and even then his hands reach down to tug Kei's shirt up over his head.

Kei could say something brazen, but his face is burning already. Kuroo is arching into him in ways Kei has rarely seen before, groaning needily and his hands roam the newly uncovered skin of Kei’s torso reverently.

He stops for a second, straightening up and settling on straddling the man’s lower abdomen.

“What’s wrong, firefly?” Kuroo is breathing hard, flushed down to his chest, Kei slips his hands under the man’s sleeping shirt and drags his nails upwards, Kuroo’s face twists in pleasure and he arches off the bed so Kei can take the garment off.

Kei chuckles. “Just checking.” He says, meaning for it to sound serious, but it comes out more smug than anything, even as he shifts backward, fingers hooking around the wast of Kuroo’s linen underwear, sliding them down swiftly as he slides back over his hips. 

Kuroo’s cock springs up had and red. Kei shifts so he’s comfortable, and meet’s Kuroo’s eyes with his while dragging his blunt fingernails down the tan skin of Kuroo’s muscled thighs. Satisfaction washes over him when Kuroo throws his head back with a groan. “Someone’s feisty,” Kuroo grumbles, holding his gaze. “Did you miss me a lot?”

Kei rolls his eyes at him, before muttering a small “I did.” and bending down to mouth at the head, which rips the smug smirk from Kuroo’s mouth immediately. It’s intoxicating and Kei can’t help but continue. Kuroo is a hard man to make fall apart, but he knows him better than anyone else. Knows how to lick up his shaft, how to bob his head on Kuroo’s cock so that the man is clutching at the sheets.

The smell of singed fabric reaches Kei, and he pulls off with a pop. “Are you alright?” he asks, craning h shed to the side.

“Kei, gods…” he pants, eyes glassy “Just sensitive.” Kuroo’s voice is dark and deep and it sends jolts of anticipation down Kei’s spine. 

“Well, you haven’t burned the sheets since I was seventeen,” Kei says, smug, nuzzling the side of his lover’s shaft. 

Kuroo throws an arm over his face, hiding the way he flushes even darker. “You try not touching anyone in- Oh-“ Kei takes all of him down his throat swiftly, eyes watering at their edges, throat aching slightly, but it’s worth the way Kuroo’s arm comes to clutch at the back of his head and his eyes roll back until Kei can only see the whites.

He continues, imposing a fast, rough pace on himself, arm braced over Kuroo’s hips to keep him fro bucking up while his other hand is down his sleeping bottoms, working at his own erection. He can already feel the muscles in Kuroo’s thighs and lower abdomen quaking and his moans rising in their pitch. “Stop- s- Kei- Ah-” Kei looks up, at Kuroo’s flustered face by the headboard, his eyes are full of want still, mouth open, chest heaving. “I-I want to- you.”

A slow smile spreads over his face as he pushes himself off Kuroo’s hips and crawls up the man’s body. “I didn’t catch that Tetsu.” He says, teasing as he kicks off his last remaining clothing item and helps Kuroo do the same with his. 

Kuroo’s arms pull him closer, as strong as Kei remembers them and the man arches his chest into Kei’s hungry and shameless. “I want you to hold me,” he says against Kei’s lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth and biting lightly. “I want to feel you, Kei.” It’s somewhere between a whine and a growl and it makes heat rise to Kei’s face.

Right, Kuroo has no shame.

He lifts his hand, caressing over the expanses of skin of Kuroo’s hips and chest and neck. Kei’s fingers reach Kuroo’s mouth, which opens with no prompting, sucking them in eagerly. “You-“You’re-“ Kei pauses. “You’re too much.”

The other man hums around his fingers, pulling off them when he’s deemed them wet enough. “You like me like that.” He says, leaning up to kiss Kei as his thighs spread open even wider, inviting Kei to settle between them. “You wouldn't want a dull lover, would you now?”

Kei sucks in a breath, hand gliding down to slide over Kuroo’s crack. “No, I wouldn’t.” He says, burying his face into Kuroo’s shoulder. “Are you sure? We don’t have any lube.”

“I want to,” Kuroo says as his fingers draw patterns into Kei’s back, digging his nails in when the first finger starts breaching his ring of muscle. “It will be fine.” He gasps. “I want you inside.”

And there’s no way Kei could refuse that, it’s the whole reason he started this. He knows Kuroo would have waited, he’s always waiting for Kei, but he also knows the other needs this. For all his confidence and bravado, the man Kei loves has a surprisingly tender core, one that needs warmth, and touch and reassurance right now.

So, he goes on, opening Kuroo up with practiced fingers, gentle and sometimes teasing. His mouth runs up and down the man’s neck, distracting him with bites that make the other groan and buck up and call out to the gods. Kei knows when he's ready.

He stretches up, removing his fingers from Kuroo’s shivering body, taking in the sight, Kuroo’s hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, his lips open enticingly and his neck is purple all the way up. Still, the man smirks. “Why are you so pretty?” he says fondly. “I can’t believe- Gods, I missed you.”

Kei doesn’t really have an answer, all he can think of is the way Kuroo’s chest heaves, how his mouth curls up around Kei’s name, he spits into his palm, to slick himself up. “Are you good?” he asks, free hand trailing over the ribbons of magic that wrap around Kuroo’s middle.

Kuroo chuckles, only tensing slightly as Kei line himself up. “Better than ever, firefly.” He smiles eyes filled with emotion. Kei leans over him, pressing his lips softly to that smiling mouth as he pushes inside. 

He’s engulfed in Kuroo’s warmth, his arms and legs wrap around Kei’s shoulders and waist, mouth greedy, sucking in Kei’s tongue while little aborted sounds escape the man’s throat.

By the time Kei bottoms out Kuroo is already bucking up into him. “Move, Kei.” He whines, nails clutching so hard at his back that he won’t be surprised if it makes him bleed a little. “Please, I-“ he buries his face into Kei’s shoulder and the next thing he says is unintelligible but Kei understands perfectly.

 _I need you_.

And he needs Kuroo too, so he starts thrusting, slow, steady, still wary of the lack of optimal lubrication, not wanting to hurt Kuroo, even though he doesn’t seem to be in pain, clutching at Kei and moaning with abandon, hips meeting his in every thrust.

Kuroo is beautiful like this, Kuroo is his, so Kei picks up the pace, hands running over the man's chest, cupping at his jaw, keeping those eyes on him, solely on him. That’s how Kuroo comes, muscles clenching, mouth falling in a man that’s more of a scream, release spilling all over both their stomachs.

Kei follows him soon after, thrusts going erratic, he buries his head in Kuroo’s chest as those warm hands rub soothing circles into his back, where Kei can already feel pink welts forming. 

He collapses o top of Kuroo, into his waiting arms. Ear pressed to the place where Kuroo’s heart is just starting to slow back down. “You’re here.” Kei murmurs sleepily, fully intending to fall back asleep.

”I am.” Kuroo sighs into his hair. “I’m here, Kei.”

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but it's only when someone yells from outside that Kei lifts his head from Kuroo’s chest, sleepily trying t tune in the vice. “-done? Like we can keep waiting, no pressure!” 

It’s Bokuto, of course, because who else could it be? Kei stretches up, shoulders stinging where Kuroo’s nails surely tore through the skin.

And Kuroo is there, smiling up at him.

.

.

Keiji and Bokuto land softly outside of the cabin. 

Short flights like that are fine, though Keiji is going to have to see into getting some sort of charm like the one Bokuto has, he quite likes flying in the man’s arms, getting his nose frozen off not so much.

He looks up to meet the man’s gaze. Bokuto is smiling at him and it does a lot of things to Keiji’s insides. For a second, he wants to lean up and press a kiss to the man’s mouth, there’s no one around anyways, Kenma said he would be late, and the only reason they came this early was to bring Kuroo and Tsukishima breakfast.

Before Keiji can lean up, however, it’s the wind mage that leans down and pecks at his lips, lightning-fast and soft.

Keiji melts a little

Maybe it’s because the past few years haven’t been all that good to him, and forming deep attachments would have made everything worse, so he avoided it. But everything about this is new and exhilarating and terrifying.

Bokuto is already stomping up the porch steps, heavy as always. Keiji rushes forward, laying a hand over the man’s shoulder, uncovered because Keiji is currently the one with the furs over his shoulders. “They might be sleeping.” He reminds Bokuto. “You wouldn’t ant Kuroo-san to return the wake-up call when you take a nap later.”

Bokuto rolls his eyes, reaching up to fluff Keiji’s hair and it actually feels nice, like he has known the other forever. “Ha! He won’t care.” He laughs, jostling the boxes with their breakfast. “But grumpy Tsukki is less fun.”

“Then for his sake.” Keiji smiles. “I'm not sure he has recovered from that hit to the head completely.”

“Meh, he’s tougher than he looks,” Bokuto says, though he still opens the door carefully and makes his steps lighter. “He lasted five years with Kuroo, y’know?”

“And you.” Keiji chuckles. 

“And me.” Bokuto lets out a snicker as they make a turn for the small kitchen. "Most of the time."

That is, until a sharp, high cry from somewhere upstairs startles them both. That and the rhythmic sound of something wooden being rattled. Keiji turns his gaze toward Bokuto who looks equal parts proud and horrified. “Didn’t even take a week, huh?” he says looking up. 

Another cry, a _moan_ drifts down, and Keiji can feel his face going crimson. “Should we-“ he swallows. “We should wait outside.”

“Sure.” Even Bokuto’s cheeks go a little red, the sounds don’t seem to be close to stopping. “Sure ‘kaashi, let's just take ours and eat on the porch.”

As they exit, food in hand, and very purposefully not looking at each other, Keiji can’t help but ask. “Are they always… uh?” Like the world is trying to punctuate Keiji’s statement, there’s another cry from upstairs just as he closes the door

“Loud?” Bokuto whispers, mouth stretching into a small grin. “Always. Kenma used to put runes that muffled the sound around their tent.”

Keiji sits on the porch steps, breathing in the smell of wet soil and the trees surrounding the cabin, hoping it will clear his head, even if just slightly. “At least they made up.” He muses taking a bite of one of his pork buns, looking out at the wet road ahead.

It’s drafty this morning, the first signs of autumn apparent in the air. Bokuto sits down beside him, pressing close into Keiji’s side, a furnace in his own right. Keiji takes it as an offer to lean his head on the other's shoulder, so he does. “I really hope Kenma finds something,” Bokuto says, mouth full. “It gets really humid here in autumn.”

“You dislike that?” Keiji asks, Bokuto’s furs tickle his face pleasantly. 

“My hair gets impossible to maintain.” The man grumbles, embarrassed. 

Barely a week ago, Keiji found this man intimidating, though he can’t figure out how, especially when he’s looking away, embarrassed, with his lower lip pushed out into a pout that makes Keiji want to 

indulge him in anything he might ask.

“I’m sure you will look dashing anyways," he says, direct and comfortable, it’s the truth after all.

He half-expects Bokuto too hug him, so his hand moves out of the way just in time to accommodate the man's thick arms around his middle. “You’re too nice Akaashi!”

And Keiji thinks that no, he isn’t the one that is too nice.

.

.

It grows dark outside and Kenma doesn’t come. 

Akaashi is sitting on one of the moldy couches, wrapped in grey furs, a book in his hand while Bokuto’s head rests on his lap, the wind mage soundly asleep after a much too large lunch. They make a pretty picture, something someone could paint, even with the peeling wallpaper and the rotting wood around them.

Tetsuro is very glad for Bokuto, he sincerely hopes they last. From what little he has seen of Akaashi, however, he seems quite taken with Bokuto, almost as much as the wind mage is, and then surpassing Bokuto when it comes to enthusiasm is something that most people can’t do, especially ones as reserved as Akaashi.

Tetsuro sighs, he is happy, happier than he has been in a long while. But there’s no denying that he and Tsukishima have a large, looming problem, and it won’t let him have peace.

Maybe he doesn’t feel ever creak of every floorboard in the house anymore, but he feels the portal, that insidious, neutral presence, slowly leeching magic from both of them, feeding off its prey. 

Tetsuro isn’t sure where the parasitic nature of it comes from, it definitely isn’t sentient, and the ley lines should give it enough power by themselves. According to Tsukishima, the spell tying them to it has more to do with permanence than anything else, so that isn’t it. 

At the edge of his sight, something shimmers, there’s a contained burst and Tetsuro feels his heart skip a beat. His head whips around, Tsukishima is nowhere in sight. Akaashi looks up at him as Tetsuro stands slowly. “That didn’t feel particularly large.” The earth mage mutters, eyes drifting down to his book. 

“I’ll go check,” Tetsuro grumbles. “Wouldn’t want to wake Bo up.”

Akaashi smiles softly, his long fingers are gently laid on the warm skin of Bokuto’s neck. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. You should take more help when it’s offered, Kuroo-san.” And for a second, Akaashi’s soft, blue-grey eyes are the color of freshly cooled iron. 

“It is not all that easy Akaashi.” Tetsuro shoots back, feeling another of those tiny bursts of magic somewhere under them.

The man looks back down at his book as if he didn’t hear what he just said. Tetsuro prefers it that way, he turns away and heads for the kitchen and the hatch that leads down to the cellar. He’s about to pull it open when it’s pushed up from the inside, Tetsuro takes a step back as it opens fully and Tsukishima emerges, shoving his glasses on his face, a napkin, dyed red with blood, pressed to his nose.

He freezes when his eyes meet Tetsuro's, tries to hide the piece of cloth but as soon as he brings it away from his nose it starts bleeding again.

Surprisingly, the man’s shirt has no stains on it. 

“Why don’t we wait for Kenma?” Tetsuro says lowly.

Tsukishima shoots him an annoyed, stubborn look. “I think I can do it.” He says. “It’s just too damn hard with you somewhere else, I can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to do it alone.” Tetsuro can feel a knot forming at his throat, he offers the blond his hand to help him ascend the last few steps. “This is supposed to be a team thing.”

The blond takes his hand, frown still marring his face. “That’s a bit hypocritical of you.” He drawls, pulling himself up so that his chest is just a couple of inches away from Tetsuro’s. “You won't let me help. But you were going down there to tinker with it.”

“It’s dangerous Kei.”Tetsuro slips his hands around the blonds narrow waist, thumbs running circles over his ribs. “Either of us might get killed.”

Tsukishima breathes out, shaky and annoyed, he sags into Tetsuro’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. “But what happens if we stay like this.” He says. “I do feel the portal sucking us dry like you said. What point is there to this if we can’t get out of here in time?” A hand comes up to his arm, pulls Tetsuro close, and it still feels strange to be touched, he isn’t sure how long _that_ is going to last, but with Tsukishima if feels good. Anything’s good with him, really. “And I don’t like hat you won’t trust me, when I could-“

Tetsuro sighs, pressing a small, apologetic kiss to the blond’s shoulder. “I don't think you should pay for my recklessness.” He says. “I know you’re strong, I know you’ve been traveling and apparently you’re a pretty famous curse breaker now.” His hands clutch at the man’s shirt. “But I never want to see you hurt regardless.”

They hold each other for another moment, and Tsukishima sighs. “Then let me try, I promise I’ll stop if the portal starts getting unstable.” Tetsuro pulls away, eyes searching the other’s face for hesitance, but there’s none. “Please?” Tsukishima tries.

And Tetsuro would never deny him, not when he asks like that

He follows Tsukishima down the hatch again, and feels the portal pulse as they draw close. The blond removes his glasses again and hooks them on the collar of the shirt that he wears.

Tetsuro glares at the dark vortex. Why can’t it just feed off the ley lines? Is it that he and Tsukishima are too easy to draw magic from?

Tsukishima turns to him, golden eyes determined, mouth set into a straight line. His nose has stopped bleeding, finally, but there’s still some dried blood on his upper lip. “I need you to stand very still.” He says. “And come closer.”

Tetsuro takes a step forward, hands closing over the other’s cheeks. “This close?” he asks, feeling a small smirk appear on his face. 

“You’re not going to distract me,” Tsukishima says, frowning, but he leans into the touch. “I mean it Tetsuro.”

“’m not distracting you.” He answers. “I’m just being obedient.” Tetsuro shrugs a the flush that rises to Tsukishima’s cheeks. “Besides, I’m kind of entitled to wanting you close.”

The blond rolls his eyes, head leaning into Tetsuro’s left palm. “You’re trying to distract me, I know it.” He says softly. “But I guess there's no harm in it.” His eyes close and all of a sudden Tetsuro isn’t seeing the confident Tsukishima he first met in this house, he’s facing the prickly, slightly scared one that he first fell in love with.

And so, with as much patience and care as he did back then, he pulls Tsukishima forward, envelops him in his arms and kisses him. 

Immediately, the man’s body melts into his, pliant, and wanting. This is his Kei, _his_. The vulnerability he never shows anyone else, the fear kept hidden behind tall, enduring walls. The tenderness and the care he only shows to a few people, all of whom abandoned him, for one reason or another in the past year.

Tetsuro loves him, Tetsuro _needs_ him, but the same can be said for Tsukishima.

So Tetsuro kisses hard and deep and a little domineering. He licks into Tsukishima’s mouth and pulls him close by his waist one hand hooking on that tantalizing curve, the other drifting down to cup his ass and he feels like a teenager again when the blond moans, sucking at Tetsuro’s lower lip with bruising force.

Yes, this is it.

The kiss lasts for eons, seconds, hours, and when they part a thin string of spit connects them.

Tsukishima’s eyes are fond, though slightly annoyed. “You’re too good at this.” He protests, though his hands are still fisted on the back of Tetsuro’s shirt. 

“You say that like you didn’t already know,” Tetsuro smirks warmly. “I do trust you Kei.” He says, eyes closing, hands retreating to hang limp at his sides.

The blond’s eyes widen and a small smile takes over his face. “Stay still.” He whispers as he leans in and takes Tetsuro's right hand in his left, the marriage vow softly flashing at him.

And it's such a familiar gesture, Tetsuro lends the other full control of his magic without thinking.

And something incredible happens.

He has always been so curious about whatever it is Tsukishima can see when he manipulates the magic. Before, when they were traveling and had time to muse about such things, he tried to get the blond to put it into words, but the answers were always different and Tetsuro could never quite grasp it.

He isn’t sure that what he’s seeing is exactly it, but it looks a lot like what Tsukishima so often described.

Twisting ribbons of iridescent light float around, illuminating the soot-covered basement, break down at the maw of the portal. Most of them drift around aimlessly, but the thickest, the one that looks the most solid is wrapped around him, several times, and the around Tsukishima, branching off into many small ribbons spreading over the man’s chest like the budding roots of a tree.

Tsukishima looks down at it, eyes wide, left hand coming up to trace the ramifications. This must be new, neither he nor Kuroo have been down here much since the day they tried to break the curses. “It doesn’t-“ He stammers. “It doesn’t look like usual, Kuroo.” He says and he almost sounds panicked.

Tetsuro lifts his free hand, to Tsukishima’s chest, trailing his index finger over one of the tortuous strips. “It doesn’t?”

“You can see it?” Tsukishima’s brow furrows. “That makes no sense.”

“Only once you took my hand and lent me your magic.” He says. “I think- think maybe it’s because we’re so close to the portal, and my magic still has some connection to it, I couldn't see any difference upstairs.”

“But what’s this?” Tsukishima gestures at his chest. 

Tetsuro shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He turns to look at the portal. He spent most of a year staring at it, and being able to see the magic- is it the magic?- it takes on another tint, Tetsuro can see it, the place where the edge of it sinks into the ground, where it should connect to the lines and feed directly off of them, it’s only partly connected, a part of those luminous beams appears truncated, and there, right there is where the line of magic connecting to him and Tsukishima is born.

It never had enough power, to begin with, Tetsuro realizes. It latched down to him from the start and of course, it wasn’t enough. 

He whips his head to Tsukishima, but the blond doesn’t seem to have made the same connection, his eyes are fixed to Tetsuro’s middle instead. “I don’t understand.” He says. “Why is it so different?” His free hand rises to tug at the magic at Kuroo’s waist, lifting the ribbon slightly, pouring his own strength, his own magic, in.

And Tetsuro feels it instantly, how the ribbon loosens, and Tsukishima’s magic is greedily sucked in, far more than he probably intended to use and as it does, blood spurts out of the blond’s nose and ears.

Tetsuro shoves the other away, as soon as Tsukishima’s hand leaves his, the room goes back to normal and Tetsuro Tsukishima's magic stop flowing towards hit. “You can’t do this again.” He says

Because it makes so much more sense that he has his body back now. The portal was never completely attached to the lines, it needed more magic, and it didn’t need some stubborn fire mage with more brains than actual magic, it wanted _pure_ magic.

And Tetsuro is pretty sure, from what just happened that if his body weren’t in the way, Tsukishima would have already been sucked dry.

Tsukishima stares at him, eyes wide. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but then there’s a call from upstairs. “Kenma’s here.” Bokuto yells, and then there’s a nondescript hoot of delight and another yell. “My disciple!”

And Tetsuro is the one to storm off this time, he needs to think, he really needs to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are. I didn't wan tin to be like 'lol we kissed and we're all good now', though it did hurt a bit to write that much mistrust (And I wanted to write Tsukki topping, though that was so hard). It is building up to something, don't worry.  
> You know your comments always make my day.
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	9. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises, and Murphy's law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I made a little mistake last time, this is the last chapter, but there's an epilogue, I think I was a bit excited.  
> I really hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive. :3:3

Tsukishima has not changed much in the year since Shouyo had to drag his unfairly long body through the woods, into a wagon and through the back door of his house.

His hair is a bit fluffier and longer, and for once he isn’t wearing one of those awful robes that made him look like a sand statue. But the expression in which his face rests is still relatively sour. His eyes, which dart to Kuroo’s face once in a while, are still framed by dark-rimmed glasses and he’s sitting there, beside the dark-haired man, legs crossed at his ankles, looking so stiff that Shouyo has to wonder if he isn't an actual statue.

Kuroo, however, looks _wrecked_ , and Shouyo isn’t thinking that just because he has the mother of all hickeys on the left side of his neck, no. For someone that Shouyo remembers as confident and composed, the constant tapping of his feet on the floor and the furrow of his brows that never ever does go away -even when Bokuto makes him laugh- make him look an awful lot like he’s worried out of his mind.

Although maybe he has some reason to.

Shouyo turns his head to Kenma again, as he relates the -rather strange and risky-day they’ve had -gods, his mom is going to be _mad_ when she realizes that Shouyo never came back after lunch _-_. “I figured we could find something there.” The man says, shrugging, eyes glinting like a cat’s. “Besides after you ran away, it seems they went back to having the usual wards.” 

Kenma is good at hiding it, his voice doesn’t shake but Shouyo notices him tucking his hands into the folds of his coat and eyeing Bokuto’s furs with envious eyes. 

Outside, the sky is dark. “And we kind of thrashed the library,” Shouyo adds, tugging at the man’s left-hand absentmindedly to cover it with his and blow warm air on it. sometimes he forgets he has that spelled ring Suga made for him. “Sorry, Tsukishima.”

The blond just gapes, narrowed eyes fixed on the place where Shouyo is holding Kenma’s hand. “You snuck in my parents' estate?”

“Technically, Shouyo snuck in,” Kenma adds, amused. “Your own father invited me in, he thought I might know where you were. It's a bit scary how he found out I was there so quickly.”

Tsukishima grits his teeth so loud that Shouyou can hear it, his eyes drift to the other faces in the room, everyone looks particularly disgruntled, except for Bokuto who just looks confused. “Hey! Now that you all know what the hell happened can you please tell me and Akaashi!?” he bellows. “We’re tired of being kept in the dark, right 'kaashi?”

The -amazingly pretty, how does anyone have eyelashes like _that_?- earth mage pressed into Bokuto’s side remains quiet. “Akaashi, you knew?!”

“I guessed.” The man says, soberly. “And then I asked Tsukishima-kun this morning.” His eyes meet Bokuto’s the picture of innocence. “I thought you asked Kuroo-san.”

“Wha- no? I was too busy grilling him abou-” he looks back quickly at where Tsukishima’s glare has turned murderous and gestures wildly at his neck, eyes darting to and from Kuroo. “Uh, stuff.” He hurries to say, and then tries to whisper, though everyone in the room still hears. “Help, ‘kaashi he looks like he’s going to kill me.”

Akaashi simply chuckles lightly and takes one of Bokuto’s thick hands on his own. The older man instantly relaxes and Shouyo just, can’t help but squeal a little. “You’re so lucky Bokuto-san!” He blurts out, which earns him fond looks from Kenma and Bokuto, and disapproving looks varying on intensity from everyone else. Kuroo laughs nervously. “I’ll bring you up to speed later Bo.” And he gestures for Kenma to continue.

“So, we found a spell that might work,” Kenma says, pulling out a bunch of parchment rolls from his leather bag. “Shouyo had to get them while hanging upside down, so there might be a few unrelated rolls.”

“It was a lot more awesome than that!” Shouyo protests. “By the way, the stained glass windows at the top of your house’s 

library are sick.” He adds, looking at Tsukishima.

The blond frowns as he looks down at the pages. “How did you even- My mom should’ve been able to feel you.” He says, eyes scanning the pages, discarding the ones that did not belong. “You’re about as subtle as a small typhoon.”

“Oh, she wasn’t there,” Shouyo says. “She actually left to travel like six months ago.” He shrugs. "No idea why."

The blond frowns, but doesn’t comment, instead he leans closer to Kuroo, showing him the pages of the manuscript. “Did you mean this rune circle?” Kuroo says, turning the paper around to show Kenma the correct parchment. 

“Yes, I believe it could cut you two away from the portal,” Kenma says, back hunched. “It might be dangerous but, I don’t think we have that much time.”

Kuroo’s brow furrows. “Why?” 

Kenma takes a deep breath, and Shouyo lifts a hand to thread soothingly through the long strands of his hair, cutting the an off before he can even begin to talk. “Tsukishima’s father caught us in the library.” He explains. “He grabbed Kenma, that’s why I – uh, toppled all the bookshelves and broke the high window.”

Kuroo recoils. “Oh gods, are you two ok?”

“We are, Shouyo flew us directly back here.” He sniffs, and Shouyou notices that his nose is red. “But well, I think he might have overheard that we’re here, I was telling Shouyo about this-“ he gestures between Kei and Kuroo. “I'm sorry.”

Tsukishima stiffens, hands digging into the side of the chair where he sits. “So we have what? Until morning?”

Kenma sighs. “I'm not sure, I don’t think he would try to travel at night if it’s by carriage and the last train had already left.” He says. “Do you think he would fly here? He still doesn’t know exactly where we are.”

Tsukishima stops to think for a second. “I don’t think so. Maybe if mother was with him, but he won’t find us easily by himself.” He frowns down at the parchment. “Besides this needs to be drawn in white Oak ash, I don’t think we can get any before tomorrow.”

“If he’s even coming.” Kuroo sighs. “I’m pretty sure it’s still faster to wait until the apothecary opens tomorrow than to go burn a tree in Fuku and collect its ashes.”

“I could go with Hinata.” Bokuto offers. “It’ll be fast with the two of us.”

Tsukishima sighs. “Even then, I don’t think it would be enough Bokuto.” 

“You would have to cross the peaks flying too,” Akaashi adds, hand tightening around Bokuto’s. “Even if it’s still summer, it’s not safe.”

The wind mage groans, and Shouyo nudges Kenma to switch hands, the one he wasn’t warming up is still frightfully cold. In front of them, Tsukishima and Kuroo are whispering to each other, heads close as they pour over the parchment with the rune circle.

Shouyo doesn't understand that much about runes, or Tsukishima and Kuroo’s situation, but it seems complicated, even without adding Tsukishima’s crazy parents to the mix. “Uh, is there a kitchen here?” he asks. “And food? I flew Kenma in without a pelt or anything he’s like half-frozen.”

Akaashi gives them a sympathetic look. “I think we have some leftover milk and wine.” He says. “I’m afraid you will have to wait until we get back to the town for food.”

Shouyou follows, sparing a last look at Tsukishima and Kuroo. A memory of Tsukishima a year ago, the bone of his thigh poking out of his leg, looking more dead than alive flashes through his head. Yes, he feels quite happy for them despite the circumstances.

.

.

Hinata isn’t a source that Kei particularly likes to get information from. He’s marginally better than Kageyama, if only because he speaks faster, but he isn’t Kei’s choice.

He misses Tadashi so much.

After the ginger leaves -claiming that he needs to get some food in Kenma, and Kei can see how his squirrely brown eyes twinkle as he says it, it’s so sweet he kind of wants to scream- along with the rest of the group, Kei goes to bathe and fixes himself something for dinner.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a bottle of cheap wine along with the groceries Akaashi and Bokuto brought in the morning.

Someone must be taking pity on him.

Except that no one else knows what he and Kuroo saw today, so maybe they thought there might be something to celebrate.

And there would be, if he wasn’t being slowly sucked dry by a fucking inanimate mass of magic. And also if he wasn’t sure that Kuroo is planning something stupidly noble and self-sacrificing.

Kenma’s plan is good, that’s the worst of it, but it’s dangerous. The circle is supposed to isolate the portal from magic attachments outside of it, cutting off their connection in the process. Of course, that means the portal will explode.

So if it works, they might get incinerated in the blast, if it doesn’t one or both of them might be killed by the portal trying to get as much magic as it could in an attempt to protect itself.

Joy.

Kei grabs the bottle and trudges upstairs. He finds Kuroo in the room, laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling like he could burn a hole in it with his eyes if he looked hard enough.

Has not sure what to say, a lot of things cross his mind. It was easy to talk downstairs with everyone around and the rune circle in front of them, ready to be figured out. But now they’re alone and Kei has this irrational impulse to either beg Kuroo to not put him first on this or fight him because Kei knows him and he clearly will. 

Taking a swig of the bottle, he flops down beside the man.

Kuroo turns to look at him, but Kei keeps his eyes on the ceiling, taking another swig of the bottle and offering it to the other, biting at his own lower lip so hard that for a second he tastes blood.

“It’s a good plan, don’t you think so?” Kuroo asks as he hooks his little finger through Kei’s and receives the bottle with his free hand. “We might have a chance.”

Kei turns his head to the man just in time to see him lift the bottle to his lips and take a gulp of the wine. It’s watery and far too sweet, but Kei figures they both need it right now. “I’ve never worked with runes that complex.” he sighs. “I guess it’s lucky Kenma’s here.”

“If anyone can do this it’s him.” Kuroo sighs. “D’you think he and shrimpy will finally notice now? I really wanted to see them together, and I would win that bet with Bo.”

Kei sops to think for a minute. “Hinata already knew.” He confesses, "He told me when they dropped me off at Aoba.”

Kuroo hums.”Well, then it shouldn’t take long.” He passes the bottle back to Kei, who doesn’t stop to think before he drinks from it again. It’s almost funny how much better he felt this morning, but then, he was willfully ignoring a lot of things then.

Now they’re at the forefront of his mind, and maybe it’s the wine, maybe the fact that he spent a whole year as a silent ghost. But when Kuroo’s hazel eyes meet his Kei finds himself. “Don’t leave me again.”

.

.

”Tetsuro cranes his head to the side. “Tsukki…”

Tsukishima turns his head, glaring daggers at the ceiling. “I mean that.” He hisses. “I know you didn’t have a choice before but if you do that again I…” he sucks in a stuttered breath. “I’m not going to forgive you.”

And Tetsuro sees them, his balled fists, his lips pressed into a rigid line, the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey no,” he says, turning on his side and pulling the blond close, arms clutching him tight though Tsukishima stays as he is, rigid, looking up, a solitary tear spilling out of the corner of his left eye. “I never want to leave you,” he says, pressing a kiss to Tsukishima’s shoulder. “Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Tsukishima sniffles, taking in a stuttered breath. “Then why do you keep acting like you’re going to do something stupid?” he grits out. “I know you Tetsuro, I’ve known you for seven years, today when we were in the basement you were thinking of it, weren’t you?”

“I-“Tetsuro closes his eyes, taking in the warmth of Tsukishima’s body, feeling how his skin tingles at the contact, still not used to it. “I was.” He finally says, because if he starts lying now he’s never going to be able to stop, no matter what happens, and Tsukishima will know and hate him for it. “I’ll admit I even started making a plan, I’m not going to lie to you, but please understand-"

Golden eyes turn to him, betrayal plain in Tsukishima’s face. “You-“

“But I think Kenma’s plan is going to work.” Tetsuro cuts him off. “I have faith in it, and I would never leave you if I had a choice Kei.” He doesn’t know who’s shaking now, if it’s him or Tsukishima. “I- You don’t know how much I fought that vow, the first week I thought I was going to go crazy from the pain.” He sighs. “You don’t know how bitter I was when I found out you were getting married, how much…”

“But you’re willing to sacrifice yourself recklessly?” Tsukishima’s voice sounds like he wants to be mad, but somehow can only be tired. “You’re willing to leave me in that limbo? Do you think I had it easy? The day Hitoka and I ran away I knew I might thee knocking down the wards. And I didn’t care. I’ve been wandering the continent like some fool for a year, and you were always missing, no matter where I went.”

Tetsuro nudges him to turn in his hold, to press his back against Tetsuro’s chest, and let himself be held in his arms. “Then what do you want?” he whispers into Tsukishima’s ear, defeated. Seeing him like this is painful, it’s horrible, it’s unbearable.

A soft, short kiss is pressed to his hand. “Let's do this together.” Tsukishima croaks. “Don’t give up, I’m not going to go out and find some girl and have three children while raising crops or some shit. You go and a part of me goes.” Tsukishima’s hands come up to clutch his, a sob travels down his back, reverberating in Tetsuro’s chest. 

“It’s the same for me, that’s why-“

“Then why do you talk like I could bear it? Apparently, you couldn’t.”

“B-because-“ Tetsuro presses his nose into the coarse fabric of Tsukishima’s sleeping shirt. “Because I love you.” He says softly. “And at this point, I don’t see myself stopping.”

Quick and almost violent, Tsukishima turn over on the bed, within the circle of his arms he glares up at Tetsuro. “Neither can I, so there.” He snaps. “I love you too, so there. Don’t do that to me.”

Tetsuro wants to storm off, even though he knows the blond is right, he wants to be mad, he wants to spend the rest of his life with Tsukishima for however long that is. “Alright.” He says, eyes tearing up because he never thought he’d have to promise this but here he is. “Alright Kei, I promise.”

And then they’re kissing, Tetsuro doesn’t quite know whose tears are soaking their cheeks now, but it doesn't matter, he has been with this man for almost seven years now and he shares that feeling of helplessness.

There is nothing to do but embrace it, neither of them can turn back time, no one can, and Tsukishima is here now, kissing him _now._ Tetsuro’s hands are sliding up his shirt, in this bed, in this little house with the rotting wood and the creaky stairs about five miles from the city Tetsuro was born in.

His love is here and he’s shaking.

That can’t be allowed.

Tetsuro has done this many times in the past, but it never gets old, never gets any less tantalizing. His hands are as soft as they are demanding, they caress Tsukishima’s chest as they rip off his shirt.”I love you.” he says as he rolls the blond over and bends down to bite at a pink nipple. He has never been sad about saying it, and the words were already on his tongue the day Tsukishima walked through the door to his room on that first day and found Tetsuro sitting in a corner, praying to be able to phase through it. “I love you.”

And Tsukishima answers in kind, hungry, eager, hands threading through Tetsuro’s hair and pulling him up to meet his lips. “I love you too Tetsu.” He says between kiss, lips demanding, claiming. As if Tetsuro hasn’t been his from the very day he saw him reading on the steps of his parent’s estate, the statue of a saint, a god of light. Surrounded by crows, with eyes so, _so_ beautiful.

The clothes go fast, neither of them has the time, this may well be the last night, the last time. The seam at Tetsuro’s left shoulder rips, and all Tsukishima does is groan and tug harder.

After a year fo waking in a fog of a dream -and in general, really- Tetsuro ha never felt so alive as when he kisses down his lover’s body, as he litters Tsukishima’s thighs with bruises and bites, relishing on the moans, the pleas to hurry up. 

He savors it, savors him, his beautiful Kei.

The blond is trembling against the headboard by the time Tetsuro finally takes one of his legs into his hand and raises it to his shoulder, eyes meeting Tsukishima’s, as he sucks Tetsuro’s fingers, they are filled with love and want.

And still behind his glasses.

Tetsuro leans forward, hissing as their erections press together, warm and hard. He leans in close and Tsukishima’s arms open to him.

“You’re perfect.” He says as he plucks the glasses from the bridge of the blond’s nose and sets them on the nightstand, then swallows the indignant scoff that the comment elicits with a kiss. “I mean it.”

“I know you do,” Tsukishima says, eyes wide and vulnerable, even as he flinches when the first of Tetsuro’s fingers breaches his rim. “I know-“

“Shh, relax.” Tetsuro finds himself saying, eyes roving over Tsukishima’s face committing it to memory even if he doesn’t plan to spend another day of his life without seeing it. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“I see you, that’s enough,” Tsukishima says earnestly, like he so rarely does and Tetsuro’s heart swells.

As if to prove a point, he slips another of his spit-slick fingers inside and watches Tsukishima’s flushed face twist in pleasure as he crooks them. Tetsuro is in no mood to tease today, he just wants to see him like this, rowing in pleasure fr as long as he can. 

His fingers find a rhythm, and Tsukishima moans in kind, hips torn between thrusting up where his hand has enveloped both their erections and is pumping them quickly or back into Tetsro’s fingers. His hands grab at Tetsuro’s hips, pulling him close. “I’m- I’m-“

“You can come, firefly.” Tetsuro groans taking the lobe of his ear between his lips and biting at it lightly. Tsukishima does just that, spills over his own chest, arching wantonly into him as Tetsuro abuses his prostate and fits a fourth finger inside, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he sags, panting as Tetsuro gently lays his leg on the bed.

He rolls the panting blond on his side, and positions himself behind him, grabbing a hold of that long, lean leg again and pulling it up to his shoulder, marveling at Tsukishima’s flexibility. “Do you want me to wait a bit?” he asks, even though he’s throbbing, seeing Tsukishima spread in front of him like this.

Tsukishima’s arm comes around to pull Tetsuro’s head down and he turns his head. “No, Tetsu.” He says, kissing him deeply, sensually. “I'm good.” And still, even after all the times they have done this he blushes at his own words.

Tetsuro loves him, adores him, wants to eat him up.

So he does, lines himself up and thrusts inside, hard, unable to contain himself.

The blond squeals, rolling his hips back, teeth worrying at his lower lip and cock twitching, hard once again. “Yes, there.” He cries. Tetsuro obliges by setting a harsh pace, slamming deep into the blond’s heat, loving every little noise he can tear from that beloved throat, glad that no one is likely to interrupt or hear them.

He makes sure he hits the man’s prostate gain and again, dead on and his hands help thrust Tsukishima’s hips back when they start stuttering, pace erratic. 

It ends with them calling each other's names into the night, bodies covered with a sheen of sweat, arms clutching at each other like castaways in the middle of the sea.

After some time, as Tetsuro pulls the blanket over their bodies after having cleaned Tsukishima off, the blond speaks. “What are we going to do?” he whispers and those olden eyes meet Tetsuro’s. “I mean after.”

Tetsuro shrugs, rolling into his arms, letting himself be pulled close and bringing his long pillow to wrap it around his head. “Go somewhere, if you want to?”

“I’m sick of traveling.” Tsukishima huffs.

Tetsuro smiles, fondness filling his chest. “Doesn’t have to be a long trip,” he says. “It can even be one way of you want, we can settle in some little village and-“ he trails off, before, he -and occasionally Tsukishima, when his parents weren't feeling generous- simply wandered around, doing small jobs and collecting rewards for this and that. 

“I can break curses, or make wards.” Tsukishima offers softly. “And you can teach, and research stuff.” Tetsuro presses his forehead to the blond's chest. “But no more portals.”

He laughs. “Agreed, no more portals.” It’s wishful thinking, neither of them can guarantee a thing, but there was a time when that was their real plan, an actual horizon in their lives, and feeling closer to that, after all the pain and the loneliness and the strife, it feels amazing. “I’m glad I met you Kei,” Tetsuro says against his skin.

Knowing Tsukishima as he does, Tetsuro can tell that he struggles with protesting that this situation would’ve never occurred if Tetsuro hadn’t met Kei. In the end, however protesting changes nothing, they’re here. “I wouldn’t change you for anything. I’m glad too Tetsuro.” He says, nose buried in Tetsuro’s hair.

And then, at some point, as they listen to each other's breathing, they fall asleep.

.

.

In the morning, everyone trickles in the house, faces somber, voices hushed as they have breakfast, and then head for the basement.

Even Bokuto and Hinata are subdued.

Akaashi is the first one to speak up. “Tsukishima-san.” He says, and Kei looks away from the place where Kenma is carefully inscribing the runes on the soot-covered ground. “Your father arrived at the town this morning as we left.”

Kei nods, exchanging a quick look with Kuroo. “We should hurry up.” 

Akaashi nods back and he sets to making copies of the spells that Kenma first came up with two days ago for Kei and Kuroo. He seems to have claimed Bokuto’s fur cape for his own, and the air mage does not seem to mind in the least, eyes filling with fondness every time they fall on Akaashi.

Kei’s vibrating with anxious energy, Hinata at his side even more so. He makes sure that Kuroo is engrossed in the runes before leaning down to whisper at the ginger. “If I don't make it.” He says. “Go and tell them they can go back to the town.”

Hinata glares at him. “Don’t be morbid.” He grumbles. “But fine.”

“And Hitoka can claim my part of the estate.” Kei continues. She deserves that much after having had her life uprooted like that, and it’s the law, his parents won’t be able to do much, they probably will even pay her off so she won’t make a scandal out of it. “The scar the vow leaves is the same, even if we never finished the ritual.”

The ginger’s glare only deepens. “I’m sure they’d prefer to have you alive.”

“It’s hypothetical.” Kei snaps, smiling slightly. “Can’t ask you to comprehend that though.”

“Shut up Saltyshima.” Wide brown eyes look up at him. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I’m done.” Kenma calls from the place where he has almost finished the rune circle around the portal, he beckons Kei forward. “You just have to finish the rune there.” He says. “You know what comes after better than I do.”

“I do.” Kei nods.

There’s a moment of silence in the room and then Bokuto is jumping forward, wrapping Kuroo in a bone-breaking hug. “I’ll see you later!” he exclaims. Kei is treated to much the same treatment, Akaashi and Kenma shake his hand properly, and Hinata uses his magic to jump high enough that he can actually ruffle Kei’s hair.

“Always wanted to do that.” He says, and then his head turns to where Kuroo and Kenma are finishing a tearful hug. “I’ll take you Kenma!”

And they’re off to the mountain peak where they are to wait for Kei and Kuroo in the event that this doesn’t blow up in their faces. 

Kei sighs and takes off his glasses, the explosion of light no longer surprising, and then he looks up at Kuroo, who is walking towards him, eyes cast downward, hands fidgeting with it, he gives Kei the sheet of paper with the transport spell. “Are you nervous? I’m so nervous.” He says scratching the back of his head.

“Of course I am.” Kei takes a step forward, letting his head fall on Kuroo’s shoulder. “Of course I am.” He repeats folding the paper and putting it on the waist of his pants. 

Kuroo’s right-hand grabs his left, thumb rubbing soothingly over Kei’s knuckles. “You said we’d do it together.” He whispers. “It’s not going to be bad if we do it together.”

His eyes fall closed, Kei knows what’s coming next. Kuroo kisses him softly, chastely, as Kei feels his magic funnel in through the place where their hands are connected. It doesn’t last long and by the time he lets go and Kei opens his eyes the world is alight with iridescent coils and ribbons.

They bend down together, Kei grabs the brush from the bucket with the white Oak ash and reverently finishes the thick, winding rune. Then he presses his palm to it and pushes.

He takes from Kuroo first, as much as he can, filling about a quarter of the circle, but it’s not enough, so he starts on his own magic next. The runes light up, one after another, and Kei can see how the little, root-like ramifications of the portal’s magic extend up to his hands and his fingers.

Blood drips on the floor from his nose, his mouth, his ears but he doesn’t relent.

Soon the circle is almost filled, there’s an iridescent dome forming above and around the portal, not quite solid yet, but already thick, pearly.

That’s when the air comes, a wall of it.

It makes Kei stumble forward he loses contact with the runes, and Kuroo, Kuroo passes right through the dome, hand still in Kei's. He turns around violently to find a single figure standing by the stairs. 

His haired is tinged with grey now as it never was before, his skin sallow, his shoulders narrower, but it’s unmistakably his father. “Let go of him, son.” He says, and Kei wants to laugh, because he would never do that, and he can’t anyways.

But his father can’t see that. 

Both literally and figuratively.

Kei fixes him with a glare. , and he tugs on Kuroo’s hand but it’s like tugging at molasses, he’s going to need all his strength to pull him back through “Get out of here father.” He growls

The man laughs. “Or what?” he asks. “Are you going to kill me?”

Kei narrows his eyes. “Are you even seeing it?” he hisses. “ This is a portal, It’s going to blow up, you’re going to die.”

“I can have you out of here before it explodes. “ the man rambles. “We will go home and you will live the life you were meant to.” He insists, taking a step forward. “Your mother will come back and things will be the way they are supposed to be.”

His eyes are unfocused and there’s something erratic to his voice, the gestures of his hands, Kei wonders what has happened to the stern, composed man that raised him in the past few years but at the moment that does not matter. “Leave!” he insists, hand still tugging furiously at Kuroo’s. “Now!”

His father takes another step forward, then another he reaches out for Kei, but he evades his hands. “The man lets out an anguished, furious scream. “I told you to let go of that bastard's hand!” 

He probably intended for Kei to fly to the other side of the room, but his aim is off, and the blast of air, nothing like anything Kei has ever felt, pushes him into the dense dome of light. Kuroo tugs at him out of habit and the next thing he knows he’s landing sprawled in front of the portal. 

And the circle, the circle is complete.

His father watches, wide-eyed from outside of it, he runs to the now solid dome and pounds on it.

And Kei shoots Kuroo a panicked look.

They failed.

“Kei.” Kuroo’s eyes are steel, they are determination, they are security. “Fix the connection.” He says, pointing at the base of the portal. “You can see it, right?”

“But that might” Kei stumbles over his words. “It’s going to explode even if I don’t.” He mutters to himself.

“Quick, before the dome cuts the lines off,” Kuroo says, tugging him to the portal. “It’s a chance.”

It’s a last-ditch effort, one that has almost no chance of succeeding. “It’s impossible.” Kei is worn out, about to faint if he’s sincere, but if he can’t do this or if it doesn’t work, he’s going to die anyway. He and Kuroo both. 

He kneels on the ground beside the portal, hands working quick, eyes narrowing to focus on the tangle of magic as well as he can even as the dome grows pearly white around them with the energy that was supposed to sever their connection to the portal in the first place.

Kei does what he can.

It’s not enough.

It’s not _enough_.

He and Kuroo feel it, the portal trembles behind them, it loses it’s form, it-

“Kei, love, that's enough.” Kuroo’s arms wrap around his middle. “We have to go, now.”

And Kei knows, there’s nothing more to do.

The last thing he sees is the blurry, distant shadow of his father on the other side of the dome. The last thing he feels is Kuroo’s arms around his body, pulling him into the portal.

.

.

Up in a small mountain, sitting on a clearing at the edge of a cliff, Keiji is the first to feel it.

The earth under then rattles, it screams like it’s being cleaved apart with a giant knife.

Then come the sound, and the blast.

It very nearly reaches Nekoma and he silently prays there was no one and nothing in the way of that blazing inferno, a cloud of smoke rises from the center of it, black as tar. A shiver courses through Keiji’s body and he clutches the cape of grey fur that lies around his shoulders tighter.

He turns to meet the gazes of everyone else in the clearing.

Any moment now, they're supposed to appear right here any moment now.

But nothing happens.

Minutes, pass, the smoke starts growing clearer. 

And Keiji is at his side when Bokuto drops to his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... sorry.  
> This was what I planned from the start, though... It was hard to decide to do it and to write it.  
> I would really like to know what you all thought about this.
> 
> Love, Kyrye


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always an after, unless there isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo! What a ride. I can't believe I'm done with this.  
> It was very fun to write and explore an AU I do not usually do.  
> It's a whole hundred pages on word, when did I ever write this much lol? Also this is mostly fluff  
> I hope you al enjoy it, thank you for the support.

Keiji's feet hit the cold stone floor and a shiver runs up his form.

He plucks the furs from a nearby chair and slips his feet into warm shoes that are probably Bokuto's because they feel too big on him. He turns to look at the man whose arms he just left.

Bokuto's hair spills over the pillow, silky and silver, a lovely contrast to his tan skin.

It's nice to see him like this, content and tranquil. The last couple of weeks have been hard. And he was so glad that he agreed to come to Fukurodani with Bokuto before everything happened, it would have been awkward to just follow him that today when he set off for this place after digging desperately through the ashes where the cabin used to be.

Instead, filthy, with his eyes filled with tears he turned to Keiji, and Keiji let him take him in his arms and fly them here, home.

To Bokuto at least, but maybe to Keiji too, if he ever does get used to the cold.

The village of Fukurodani is situated deep in the northern mountains of the continent, it's summers are crisp and its winters are cold, Keiji, who grew up in a coast town still can't wrap around his head how much it rains here when autumn just barely started. It is beautiful, however, with tall buildings wrought from stone and paved streets and clear skies that are much too limpid sometimes despite the cold.

He sighs, as he hears it again. The sound that first woke him up.

Bokuto's sisters have taken to visiting at all hours, having missed their older brother all through his long absence, the younger two seem to like Keiji, they dote on him, his hair, his skin. The oldest -older than Bokuto by a year- however actively dislikes him and the fact that Bokuto did not bring a woman back, and she seems intent on being around to show it.

Coming here when it's almost still dark outside is more than usual, even from here.

He sighs, well he's not going back to sleep, might as well make something warm, see if he can get her to be less antagonistic. He pads to the door, shooting a last glance at Bokuto.

But the form that greets him at the door is not the one he expected, draped in heavy, coarse hoods and dripping with water. The men's faces are obscured and Keiji feels his skin drain of all color. "No," he says firmly. "No," and he grasps for the stone under his feet, though the ground is still far away he's sure he can put up a fight. "Go away and I will not hurt you."

Lightning flashes behind them and one grabs at the doorframe, Keiji tenses. "Wait, no!" the shorter one says, shoving his hood back. "It's us Akaashi." Black hair plastered to his forehead and half of his face with water, Kuroo looks at him with pleading eyes and a small smile.

Keiji's head whips to the other man. "Tsukishima?"

"I'm not pulling my hood back, I'm already freezing." he says, tone as sour as usual. And it clearly is him.

Keiji feels relief course through him. "Of course." He stands to the side. "Come in, leave the hoods on the rack, and I- I will go get Bokuto-san."

He rushes to the room, a wide smile on his face. Bokuto is still deeply asleep, and Keiji wouldn't wake him up but for this. "Bokuto-san," he says, hands tightening at the man's shoulders. "Bokuto-san, you have to see something." One of those thick arms comes up, only to pull Keiji into the bed, like it wants to wrap around him. Keiji sighs, it's adorable but still. He wiggles one of his feet out of the large shoes -it already feels like it's freezing- and sticks it under the covers to bush against Bokuto's naked shin.

"Mmmm 'kaashi, cold." The man mutters into the pillow.

"There's something for you in the kitchen," he says, placing a soft kiss to the man's jaw. "Get up, come on."

Bleary eyes open and the air mage groans. "Can we come back here and snuggle after?"

"If you still want to." Akaashi smiles, but I don't think you will."

Bokuto smiles, eyes still sleep-shaded. "Fiine." he stands. "'s too early," he says, glancing at the window. Keiji lets him walk ahead, he sees how he freezes at the mouth of the kitchen, just for a second before he's darting forward with an indistinct hoot. By the time Keiji reaches the door, all he sees is a bunch of flailing appendages and Tsukishima looking mildly amused while sitting in one of the dining chairs, Keiji moves past them and begins warming milk on the stove. "Don't gett too comfy Tsukki. I'm hugging you next." Bokuto hoots.

"When those two are done I'd really like to hear how you two survived," he says, flashing a smile at Tsukishima.

"That might take a while." The blond says, not even stopping to glance at them, hands rubbing together for warmth. "But I can tell you."

.

.

_Death tastes like fresh water from the mountains and Kuroo's mouth._

_And a little like blood._

_It feels like... Kuroo, where's Kuroo?_

_Kei reaches up through the heavy fog, up, up up, for that place of embers and spice and life and love._

_And he lurches and coughs, curling into himself, fighting to get some water in his lungs._

_Hands reach for him, those hands, warm and large, soothing over his back._

_"-i, Kei." His eyes open, he shivers, drenched through the air around him is somewhat warm. He doesn't recognize the irregular stone walls of the cavern or the glittering, clear blue water of the lake at first, but when his eyes land on Kuroo's pinched face everything makes sense. "I-" he wheezes. "I fixed it."_

_Kuroo smiles, taking him into his arms. "For a second, yes," he says. "It's probably destroyed now, but for a second it worked." There's wonder in his bright eyes._

_"And you're never doing that again." Kei narrows his eyes at him but he's smiling._

_"Never," Kuroo says, leaning in closer until his lips are brushing Kei's. "I was just admiring you, firefly, you're amazing."_

_Kei rolls his eyes and kisses him, deep and a little desperate, hands threading through Kuroo's sodden hair. After they part, he looks around. "Was this where it was supposed to lead in the first place?"_

_Kuroo's cheeks redden. "I was feeling nostalgic." he excuses. "Figured it was as good a place as any other secluded corner that wouldn't get me jailed."But I did misjudge the height, it seems."_

_A mix of relief and adoration washes over Kei, he presses closer to Kuroo, no longer so chilled. "At least we're close to somewhere civilized," he says in between kisses. "And it still is relatively warm out."_

_The dark-haired man laughs. "Mmmm, but we had such good times here." He presses his ear to Kei's chest. "Some of my favorite memories with you are here."_

_Kei buries his nose in that dark hair. "I know, but we can't stay, all we have are these clothes and they're dripping water."_

_"We can lay them out to dry." Kuroo looks up at him, a smirk taking over his features. "Then we can look for some food, we're not going to make it back in one day." His hands are sliding down Kei's back to grip at his ass. And maybe this isn't appropriate, they did just almost die, but they're free, they're finally-_

_His eyes snap open, it's not probable but... he brings his left hand up to his face. And there it is, thin, pale skin._

_A scar._

_And nothing more._

_His eyes water and he holds the hand up to Kuroo, where his lips are pressed to Kei's collarbone. "Look," he says simply._

_And Kuroo's eyes water too._

.

.

The warm weight of Akaashi in his arms grounds him.

In a good way though.

Like it takes the fiery elation of seeing Kuroo alive and relatively unhurt and not tied to a portal and tones it down to a nice simmer. Besides, it's a pretty cold morning even for Fuku, and he quite doubts that cuddling Kuroo for warmth is going to fly with the way Tsukishima is possessively curled up in his arms.

Not like Akaashi draped over his lap and Koutarou's furs covering them both are any inferior -though he has to go bout getting Akaashi furs for his own, Koutarou's drag on the floor when he wears them out.

Then again, right now, when Koutarou presses his nose to Akaashi's neck he smells faintly like him.

Maybe it's worth the muddy furs.

"We went down to Karasuno for a bit, and then headed for Nekoma but none of you was there." He shrugs. "Please tell me you know where Kenma is, his mom's mad. And Chibi-chan's too."

Akaashi takes a sip from his cocoa mug. "I see, but how did you know we would be up here?" he says. "It's a long trip to make on a hunch.

Tsukishima snickers, and Kuroo throws his head back laughing. "I've known that oaf cuddling you since we were thirteen." he points at Koutarou. "I bet you the first thing he did after you got here was go to his mom's and eat a whole pot of goat stew."

Akaashi laughs a little, eyes widening and turning to Bokuto with a knowing look. "It was."

"It's his go-to," Tsukishima explains, burying his fingers in the soft brown furs he and Kuroo borrowed. "Besides at this time of the year a pigeon might have gotten eaten or lost, or frozen in the peaks so-"

"Frankly." Kuroo stretches am shifting from Tsukishima's waist to the blond's shoulders. "I hoped you'd brought Kenma here too."

"Nah." Koutarou scoffs. "He can't stand the cold." his fingers brush over the cold lobe of one of Akaashi's ears and the man shivers. "He want to the fire islands with my little disciple."

Kuroo's face pales. "The fire islands? Why?"

Koutarou shrugs, grinning. "I dunno, Hinata sad he wanted to go study under some master there and that he was already in enough trouble with his mom for skipping out of town." He looks away. "I think Kenma just wanted to be somewhere warm."

"I know, but the Fire Islands..." Tsukishima trails off, eyes trailing over Kuroo's face. "That's another place that is near impossible to send a message to. I guess we could call some random phone and see if anyone has seen them, Hinata isn't easy to miss, but that might be too much."

"It's cruel to send pigeons that way," Akaashi interjects. "They die from the volcanic fumes, I guess a normal letter will have to do."

"If we can get anyone to carry it," Kuroo says, dejected. "I mean they should be fine but-"

Tsukishima takes a deep breath. "I guess we have another trip to make." He says and it looks suspiciously like he's stroking Kuroo's knee under the furs. It's fine."

Kuroo turns a grateful gaze to Tsukishima's and Koutarou can't help but be glad.

.

.

Tsukishima and Kuroo end up deciding to stay the week before they head to the fire islands -which really, they should, even Keiji has never been so far down south, and the trip to Fuku, riding in carriages along dangerous, narrow mountain roads is no joke either.

Anyhow, Keiji more than supports their decision -and also the decision to get a room in a nearby inn and not follow the couch in Bokuto's tiny quarters-.

He's lying in bed, warm, relishing on the weight of the many pelts above him.

There is something itching at him, however, Keiji came here because Bokuto was distraught and he wasn't just letting him go off alone, he had to prevent him from flying through the peaks and that's with Keiji in his arms, if he had been alone Keiji's sure he wouldn't have hesitated. It wasn't like he had any plans or anything of the sort. But now, well, now Kuroo is fine, quite alive actually.

What's Keiji doing here?

Bokuto steps into the room, warm from a bath, wet hair plastered to his forehead, already in his thin sleeping clothes that Keiji can't figure out how he wears to bed without freezing. He slips under the covers, arms pulling Keiji close. "Hey, what's wrong?" he says, kissing at the angle of his jaw. "You're all frowny."

"It's nothing Bokuto-san." Keiji hums, even as he feels his body relax in Bokuto's hold. "I'm cold is all."

"I can help with that," Bokuto says, bringing his legs up to wrap around Keiji's effectively enveloping him in warmth. "Better?"

Keiji smiles. "Better."

"'Kaashi..." Bokuto says, but trails off.

"Hm."

"Is it- Do you- I mean-" he stammers clutching Keiji tight. nd he sounds insecure and afraid all of a sudden Keiji can't help but turn in his arms and have his hands card through the man's silver hair. 

"Are you alright?" he asks, looking deep into those golden eyes.

"I just- I mean it's fine if you don't want to stay here." In contradiction to his words, Bokuto's hands clutch him tighter. "I know you only came because I was sad."

Keiji sighs. "I didn't want to leave you alone, that's true," he whispers. "But I didn't have any other plans, and we had talked about coming here. I'm thankful that you'll have me."

"'s not like I have plans either." Bokuto mumbles. "I promised you I'd help you get revenge, so there's that, but nothing else. I wanted to spend time with you 'Kaashi, if anything I'm the one that is thankful.."

It's shy, the way he says it, like Keiji would find it a chore. "Well, did you want to stay here a little longer?" he says, cupping Bokuto's face in his hands. "I want to be with you too. And even if we do _that_... it will take time to prepare."

Those golden eyes widen, and then his grin does. "Are you sure? It gets a lot colder than this in winter. It won't be easy to leave after it starts"

Keiji smiles wryly. "You can get me some boots, right?"

And then Bokuto is laughing, Keiji feels the rumble in his own chest ad realizes he's laughing too. "Anything you want 'kaashi." He says once the laughing fit recedes, and then he kisses Keiji.

As he kisses back Keiji notes that he's probably not going to be _that_ cold in Fukurodani's famous winters, at least at night.

.

.

_The sun shines brightly over Karasuno, the forest is coated in the same reds and yellows that it was the day Kei ran away into it._

_Kei stares out at it for a second, almost wistful, then he turns around._

_His parent's estate looks to be mostly abandoned, still grand, still glittering, but the grass outside is overgrown and there are a lot more crows flying around than usual, like someone has stopped cleaning out the nests from between the eaves. The gardeners, the landscapers probably stopped coming after his mom left, this much would not have happened in a week._

_Something, small and bitter, deep inside his gut tells him to go in._

_His hand twitches in Kuroo's. "We don't have to go in if you don't want to." the man says, squeezing at it reassuringly._

_"I don't think that we have to go in at all," Kei mutters, looking away. "Or I guess we could get some money and clothes, but I don't want to be here longer than we have to."_

_"Do you want me to do it? I know where the safe is." Kuroo says. "And the wards are falling apart here, your mom must be very far away."_

_Kei nods. "I wonder." he muses even as Kuroo walks into the house._

_The wars shouldn't be falling apart, not unless his mother abandoned them completely. But at this point, Kei doesn't really care, whatever she does she can do so long as she's far from him. He believes he has earned the right to be bitter, towards her at least._

_Kei sits on the stairs of the man house, the same way he did all those years ago. Four small crows are twittering around in front of them, young ones from what he can see. He entertains himself looking at them until Kuroo comes out, dragging a small chest behind him. "How much did you get?" Kei asks._

_"The whole safe," Kuroo says craning his head to the side._

_"Kuroo-" Kei starts, disapproving. "My mother."_

_"Is not coming back," Kuroo says, handing Kei a piece of thin paper, so soft that it seems like it will crumble. "I'll load this on the carriage," Kuroo says, smiling sadly down at him and heads for the small carriage that the Hinata's were kind enough to let them borrow -after they promised Hinata's mother that they would send news of his whereabouts as soon as they knew something of him- and Kei unfolds the letter._

_It's short, to the point, quite unlike his mother. Kei manages to read it twice before Kuroo comes back. He stands and hooks an arm around the man's setting their course for the carriage. Kuroo's eyes stay on his face, narrowed, waiting. "It doesn't change much." Kei starts. "If father was alive, maybe... but then, we might've had to kill him to free him."_

_"I guess that's where he got the idea. "Kuroo sighs. "At least he was not as cruel to me as your grandfather was to him."_

_Kei hums. "At least."_

_"And your mother?"_

_"If she went to find Akiteru I'll see her at some point." Kei shrugs, the contents on the letter still sinking in. "I'm not sure I'll forgive her, she wasn't bound by a vow." he sighs. "But I'm not going to latch on to that, I left for good a year ago, if it happens, it happens, that's that."_

_Kuroo siles at him and helps him up to the carriage, it's a simple one, without a top, so Kei flushes when he leans in to kiss his cheek as well. "You've grown up."_

_"Like you didn't know," Kei says, but he loops his arm around Kuroo's again once they're both seated. "What now?"_

_Kuroo shrugs. "I dunno, we have money, I guess it comes down to who we decide to go see first."_

_"Akiteru is in Aoba," Kei says quickly, feeling his heart swell. "They don't have a phone but I think I remember the address."_

_Kuroo's eyebrows shoot up. "Hiding in plain sight?"_

_"I believe they go by Sakeo's last name now." Kei smiles. "I wish we could go for Tadashi too but he's all the way in the western islands, and anyhow, they might've decided to come back after the mark vanished"_

_"We can send them a letter." Kuroo offers. "And leave word in town in case they show up. Then, after that, Nekoma?"_

_Kei nods. "Your grandparents." rolls his eyes. "And here's to hoping the rest are still there.Does Kenma have a phone?"_

_A laugh escapes Kuroo's throat as he shakes his head. "I won't be surprised if we end up in Fuku."_

_Kei laughs in kind, because that really might happen. he takes another look at the letter in his hand and passes it to Kuroo, their gazes meet. "Please." Kuroo doesn't need any more prompting, a tiny, yellow flame bursts from his index finger, and soon there's nothing more to it than ash._

_He lays his head on the man's shoulder the rest of the way._

_And it's alright._

_._

_._

The fire islands live up to their name.

At least this far down south no one bats an eye at him just wearing underclothes to stave the heat.

How Shouyo passes him by flying every few minutes is beyond Kenma, he barely wants to eat and read with this infernal heat.

But well, at least there’s nothing that reminds him of Kuroo here, so that’s good. Kenma feels bad about not giving him some sort of burial, but there wasn’t even a scrap of clothing to be salvaged. He’s certain of it, Bokuto dug at that pile of ashes for hours before finally giving up even when Akaashi assured him that under them were only ashes, earth, and more earth.

He purses his lips and wiggles a little deeper into the shade of the makeshift parasol.

He’s sitting at the top of a dark grey cliff made of volcanic rock, under the shade of a hastily made parasol, watching Shouyou fly around the island, riding the currents of warm air that surround the cliffsides. The horizon is darkening, blue melting into gold and orange at its edge.

He waits for the next time that he feels Shouyo near and stops him as he passes. “It’s getting dark.”

“Should be fun.” Shouyo grins. “I already know what parts to avoid because of the giant bats.” Kenma grimaces at the memory of him covered with scratches and Shouyo laughs. ”Just joking, d’you want to try out that sugar-cane drink tonight?” he asks. “I’m not flying tomorrow.”

“Alright.” He still sighs when they face the long path down the cliff. And he must look pretty crestfallen because Shouyo stops him with one hand. “I’ll fly you down, c’mon.”

It has been almost two months, at least Shouyo asks now, for the first few weeks he coddled him, waited on him hand and foot without even asking. 

It was sweet. “Just don’t get to close to the bats.” He says, looping his arms around Shouyo’s neck. The island climate really has done a lot of good things to him, his skin is golden brown nearly everywhere -since he won’t wear anything other than wide pants with sits up their sides much to the villagers' amusement-.

At least Kenma bothers with a top.

Shouyo’s strong arms cradle him and he swoops down.

It’s kind of exhilarating, the world zooms past and at the same time, he can see the islands so perfectly. He thinks Shouyo is just going to get them down to the little port, but he crosses over the water, above the little stretch of ocean that separates the island he trains in and the one they are living in.

And then further.

He sets Kenma down in front of their inn. “I thought it tired you out to fly this far.”

The ginger shrugs. “I’m not flying tomorrow, remember? It’s festival day.” It’s hard to tell with the sunset painting everything red-orange, but his cheeks seem to color a little. “Besides, you looked like you were going to get heatstroke.”

And he was, tired and sweaty and wanting to have Shouyo’s god-like physique so he wouldn’t mind roaming around in glorified underpants. “Thanks.” He smiles and it’s not a surprise when Shouyo leans in t kiss his cheek briefly. He has been doing this, lavishing with little affectionate touches, eyes wide and hopeful.

And sometimes -now that he can, now that he's not looking for a cure for the incurable- he gives them back, it's new and scary and fragile but it also is excellent and he can't think of having this with anyone other than Shouyo.

They walk up to the open porch where the lady that owns the compound of little huts that passes for an inn here, sells drinks at night.

Shouyo walks up to her, start chattering in the native language -that he somehow has picked up perfectly-. Kenma is decent at it too, and he doesn’t need to know much for the word visitors to catch his interest. 

Especially when, in the far corner of the porch where it pretty much fades into the beach, he spots a familiar blond head, and walking up to it a man just as scantily dressed as Shouyo, holding two drinks.

He sprints for them, modesty be damned.

Luckily Tsukishima notices him in time to save the drinks before Kenma tackles this man that he has known since he was like five to the sand, tugging at that ridiculous bedhead. “What did you do?! He says, laugh a little maniacal. “Why didn’t you send a pigeon, I- we thought you were dead.”

“Wait, ow- Tsukki help, he went crazy from the fumes- ow” he complains, trying to still Kenma’s hands. Tsukishima just stands to the side, amusement painted on his face. He’s wearing some sort of purple tunic-thing that only reaches the middle of his thighs and looks so fresh, Kenma desperately needs it in his life. 

Having proved that it is indeed Kuroo and not some impostor with a wig, Kenma gets off him and flops to the side in the soft sand. “How?”

“Tsukki’s father kinda locked us in that circle,” Kuroo explains, gasping a little. “We repaired the portal before it blew and ended up in that lake where I first kissed Tsukki.”

“Why didn’t you send word?” he asks feeling his eyes itch. 

But it’s Tsukishima who answers, offering a hand to each of them after setting the drinks on the woo of the porch. “Pigeons die out here.” He hums. “Or so Akaashi said, anyways, we only knew you were here when we got to Fuku.”

“But I told Shouyo to tell your grandparents that-“ he sighs. “I guess he forgot.”

Tsukishima laughs, face relaxed in a way Kenma has never seen before. “I-“ and then he’s knocked to the ground by something orange and half-naked. Kenma can only laugh, and Kuroo does along with him. 

“So, any progress?” his best friend asks, wicked smirk at the corner of his mouth.

And, looking at Shouyo, all but choking Tsukishima on the sand, he smiles softly to himself. “Some.”

.

.

_Aoba_

_has a more humid climate than Karasuno._

_Which is definitely not good for Tetsuro’s hair. He has considered shaving it off around three times today alone._

_He walks along with Tsukishima and his brother, arm thrown reassuringly over the blond’s shoulders._

_“…I told her I forgave her, but I’m wasn't sure about letting her near the girls yet.” The older man is saying. “And she said fine, and that she was planning to go into service at a temple close to here anyway. I’ve been by to visit a few times…” he shrugs. “She looks better.”_

_Tsukishima just lets his shoulders drop. “Alright.” He says. “I guess I’ll visit at some point.” His eyes seek out Tetsuro’s vulnerability written in them. “But not now.”_

_Akiteru gazes at him tenderly form under his -dyed red- hair. “But you are coming to dinner with us tonight, right?”_

_A smile grazes his lover’s face. “Sure, we’ll just settle in at the Inn and meet you there.”_

_“re you sure you’ll find the house?” Akiteru ask._

_“I lived here for like two months.” Kei scoffs, “We’ll make it, don’t worry.”_

_After that, the older man leaves them at the inn -an extravagant thing, but Tsukishima says that he won't be sleeping in lumpy mattresses again for as long as he can help it- to get settled._

_The blond flops down on the large bed they bribed the owner into letting them get and sighs. Tetsuro follows suit, dropping their bags at the foot of it and lunging for his lover’s face, littering it with kisses._

_“At last, a bed where we actually fit.” He calls, like someone’s listening. “We’re going to take advantage of it tonight, right?”_

_In an act of boldness, Tsukishima’s hands slide down to grab handfuls of his ass, pulling him closer. “What? You aren't up for it right now?” he says, eyes shining with adoration._

_“We have dinner.” Tetsuro protests. "With your brother."_

_Tsukishima latches on the side of his neck sucking a small bruise into it “In an hour, and it’s close by.”_

_“Aren't you bold firefly?” Kuroo says, but he’s already slipping out of his pants. “To think you were all shy when I met you…”_

_“Well, you corrupted me,” Tsukishima says smirking at him. “You old man.”_

_“Hey!” Kuroo protests. “I’m in shape for an old man.” Then he smirks. “And you like me this way.”_

_Tsukishima cranes his head to the side, pulling him back on the bed, and he leans forward until their noses are almost touching. “I really do.”_

_Tetsuro smiles, craning his necks so their lips are pressing together. Good, cause you have me for a long while.” He pauses for a moment to memorize his face all over again. “I love you firefly.”_

_“You better be here for the long haul,” Tsukishima says back, a small scowl on his face. “I love you too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you all think of it? I'd love to hear your opinions.
> 
> Love, Kyrye.


End file.
